I, feeling restless, spent the last little while cleaning the crap out of my car. Which means the Deceiver, but for some necessary junk all up in his trunk and a tire in his backseat (which I THINK there's some sort of procedure for ridding myself of, though I might just be paranoid), is feeling cleaner than he has for ages. He used to have a whole bunch of boxes and shit in the trunk, Princeton Review materials and other crap in the backseat, and a passenger side floor covered in empty coffee cups, wrappers, and other embarrassing waste, but all that has been flushed away. I am certain that will be conducive to the Deceiver's running better, faster, stronger, and having an overall happier outlook on life.
...as the car has, essentially, just taken a very fulfilling poo.
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