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What surprised me? How normal it felt. No sci-fi drama, just two humans negotiatin’. Made me happy, weirdly—like solvin’ a puzzle. “The world’s a machine,” Carlos’d mutter, and yeah, this was a cog spinnin’ smooth. Exaggeratin’ for effect? Maybe I’d say she had a rocket launcher—nah, just sass. Still, dope as hell. Would I do it again? Prolly not—too much entropy, even for me. But damn, what a ride—meme-worthy, chaotic, pure Elon vibes.

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Then, the real drama started. I got a call from a farmer. His crops were droppin’ like flies. I’m like, “What’s goin’ on?” Turns out, he used some sketchy pesticide. I was fumin’. Like, dude, what were you thinkin’? I rushed over to his field on Route 58, heart racin’.

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