This morning, as I walked through Williamsburg preceded by my pendulum, I was hungry and entered a bakery. I was about to put the pendulum in my pocket when I saw it rotate counterclockwise. I scanned the establishment and discovered a man with a fluorescent pink balaclava who was crumbling pretzels sitting in a chair. I secretly asked the clerk what the hell this guy was doing. “Don’t you see? He’s crumbling pretzels” she answered as if crumbling pretzels was the most natural thing in the world. “And what does he do with the crumbs?” I counterattacked. “He puts them back together to make more pretzels,” she clarified looking at me as if I were a fool. I didn’t want to delve further into this ridiculous conversation and stealthily approached the odd man. When I was at his side, I yanked the balaclava out of him, wrapped my arm around his head, and, holding it tight, ran around him unscrewing the head in the process. In the blink of an eye, the head popped out and I squeezed the anunnaki with my arms. To the astonishment of onlookers, a torrent of toothpaste erupted and, before anyone could put the toothpaste back into its tube, I took out my toothbrush and brushed my teeth. Still with a mouthful of toothpaste, I picked up the cap from the floor and ran to the street.

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