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Princess Pristina
I told my li’l lady we’d have to rescue the princess later, switched off Super Mario, put on a shirt with a collar, gave the wife a fifty and unplugged myself from the famz. The sky’d turned orange and all the shadows were stretching. Now the black shapes on the ground pooled into night as I headed west in my work truck, chasing the last hour of sun. The farm had a RD number and a swappacrate for a mailbox. There was a good half a kay of gravel before a farmhouse popped out atcha. I bounced...