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On November 2nd, 1983, don’t get out of bed. No matter what you hear or what you see, promise me you won’t get out of bed.
Magical fighting girls (& cats) this Saturday night at Qpopshop.
No sight so sad as that of a naughty child,” he began, “especially a naughty little girl. Do you know where the wicked go after death?”
"They go to hell," was my ready and orthodox answer.
"And what is hell? Can you tell me that?"
"A pit full of fire."
"And should you like to fall into that pit, and to be burning there for ever?"
"What must you do to avoid it?"
I deliberated a moment: my answer, when it did come was objectionable: “I must keep in good health and not die.”