FINAL WEEK
Starting Saturday, the layer of clouds in the sky is more solid than ever. Overcast, reflecting the neon light of the city. By Sunday, you'll see more colors than ever, as several new areas are added to the span of your probation. And some areas aren't, but might see an approach anyway. Do the pods containing six weeks of treatment daunt you in the slightest now that judgment awaits at the end of the fourth week? Though faithful treatment participants only experience flashes on the upper third of their bodies now, their counterparts will experience occasional waves of isolating existential coldness. Does your physically present overseer have anything to say for herself? Just remember one thing: Kanto is watching and waiting.
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'Tis simple: you hit the ball as hard as you can possibly muster, and the loser must then drink his fill.
[He has literally never even heard of beer pong.]
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Zenos, no... Just... no. I doubt that's it.
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[Then Flowey grabs his sword and Damian just glares at him, honestly somehow a little hurt.]
We were playing sword pong. Why would you do this.
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Yes, I will not allow you to meddle with our warrior's duel! [He will shake that vine,] but if you insist. What, then, would you propose the rules are?
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