“I’m in the midst of playing a coverall Bingo game, with a prize of a million dollars. Now, I’m playing ten bingo cards, and each card only needs the caller to call B7 and I’m a badass winner. Therefore, I’m poised on the edge of my seat ready to scream BINGO and collect a super-duper ten-million dollars, when a young man with jet-black hair, cute as a puppy, wearing the brightest white robe I had ever seen approaches and whispers, ‘Mrs. Morrison are you ready to die.’ Without hesitating, I informed the jackass, I’m too busy to die, and his hoity-toity presence interfered with my ability to concentrate, and for him to vamoose. The jerk still refuses to budge, and so I bestowed upon him a hefty jolt to his ribs, he vanished, the caller called
