01-29-2008, 04:26 AM
Wish granted.
You lay in the middle of the street, without sleeping.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, an 18-wheeler drives on top of you.
What's left of halo is now a smashed-up, bloody pulp strewn across a yellow line on black pavement.
I wish I would re-incarnate as my helicopter when I died.
You lay in the middle of the street, without sleeping.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, an 18-wheeler drives on top of you.
What's left of halo is now a smashed-up, bloody pulp strewn across a yellow line on black pavement.
I wish I would re-incarnate as my helicopter when I died.