>>283444382
>“Hags could be here” he thought. “I’ve never been to this laundry before. Hags could be anywhere.” The cool wind felt good against his expressionless face. “I HATE HAGS!” he thought as “Little Girls ” by Oingo Boingo reverberated through his entire body as the formaldehyde circulated through his varicose veins and washed away his (merited) fear of adult women. “With an artificial heart you can go wherever you want” he said to himself, out loud.