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It's from the 22nd
Obviously the choice is made and I paid £3.65 or some insane figure which is equivalent to a hamster's mortgage, I can't look at hamster in the eye anymore, but who cares because I have...yes I actually have f^&k^%g marshmallows in my hot chocolate. I proceed to drink the hot chocolate, but what's this? the marshmallowy goodness is so near but so far, as I consume the hot beverage, the marshmallows slowly receed away from my lips, eventually lying in a Demilitarized Zone at the bottom of my paper cup. Once I get a fake passport and learn some obscure foreign language, I'm able to pass the whipped cream guard in the DMZ and get to my beloved marshmallows. Now this is the sad part and quite horrible, the once pert almost sexual marshmallows, are now way past their former glory, lying naked dishevelled and withered in a creamy mess at the bottom of my cup, I bring myself to consume them, (it was for the best), what horror have I witnessed? I cry out in tortuous pain > Out damned spot! for the deed is done, once I bring myself from my knees. I walk past the young girl I look at her with disdain how can one so virile so pure so virginal (probably book myself in to the priory tomorrow) be the ordainer behest of such cruel intentions, I can't hold it in anymore I shout WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? YOU GODDAMN MARSHMALLOW PIMP! Damn you all, Damn you all to hell!