If things don't go so well, I could always turn supervillain.
I'd have a lair on a mountaintop shaped like a skull toilet.
I'd have a private jet with a toilet that emptied straight out the bottom.
Nations would pay me to never fly over their country.
I'd have a lair on a mountaintop shaped like a skull toilet.
I'd have a private jet with a toilet that emptied straight out the bottom.
Nations would pay me to never fly over their country.
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Nobody would dare shoot me down, either; because sometimes dying people evacuate their bowels, and nobody wants to find out what that means in my case.
What are the real limitations? Does my perception or internal beliefs affect the curse?
Could I, through self-conviction and reasoning (and quantum-entangled air molecules), connect my bunghole through hyperspace to the lungs of all the oligarchs on Earth?