“One of us will have to go, twin of mine. And *you* are the one sitting sideways. I think it’s you.”
The Wendy who was sitting sideways to the observing camera spoke. “Don’t cross me. You can’t cross me.”
“This is *not* a Jesus situation. Just because we *originally* were in a 0316 post.”
“Before the user Our God realized the mistake. Another mighty cock-up!”
“… is our Lord,” non-sideways sitting Wendy tacked on. But they both were in different ways. “Paper?” one uttered.
“Scissors,” answered the other. She was the one.
On the sealed evergreen island in the middle of snow snow snow, Barry De Boy waited.
And then nodded off.
