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Besides, I don’t like blood unless I’m drinking it. Even then I’m a picky bitch. Glancing around the room I take a moment to appreciate my handiwork. Puddles of blood and limbs are strung across the entire warehouse floor. Decapitated heads, broken teeth, and shredded intestines draped like tinsel.
And frankly, men are like plants, if you don’t water them, they’ll die, and I don’t have a green thumb.
