It came from outer space.
It could be anyone of us.
It copies our mannerisms,
It wears our faces.
It got to the dogs,
It will get to us.
Our only hope in this
frozen, forsaken land,
is the flamethrower.
What’s that gleam
in your eyes? Is it
you?
Why don’t we just…
wait her a little
while–?
See what happens.
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