"What – no! Stop talking about my dick," I barked, then ran a frustrated hand through my hair. "It's her, man. You were right. I am completely fucked in the head, and I need you to stop me from doing something stupid with that girl." "Which girl?" "Which girl do you think, asshole?" I snarled. "Shannon." "Oh, that girl." Gibsie chuckled. "The resurrectionator." "Stop laughing. It's not funny. I need your help," I snapped, flustered. "And resurrectionator is not a word." "Yes, it is," Gibsie challenged. "Jesus was resurrected. It was a resurrection performed by God: the resurrectionator.
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