Final lines....

As the dust settled he realized that they were right all along. War didn't save lives, it cost lives.
 
My mother always told me to bring a spare pair of underwear with me. Why didnt I listen to her?
 
As he closed the book a weight lifted off of his shoulders. It wasn't his world to save but for a few hours it sure felt like it was. He had lived and died with the characters and had fallen in love with a world that was not that different from his own. Now it flowed off of him much like water does after a shower. Soon he would be clean and dry from the pages of words that had drowned him for a short time but would never be forgotten. Until the next world was unlocked with the opening of another.
 
...and that ladies and gentlemen, proves my theory that the speed of dark is approximately -300,000 kilometers per second.
 
Time stopped all around him. He could still feel his heart beat and that meant he was still alive. The point of the sword hung there, a mere finger nails length from his face, as if the world had paused. A bead of sweat sat in mid air caught somewhere between his assailants brow and the ground below. Rolling out of dangers way, our hero climbed to his feet and studied his surroundings. The whole battlefield was still, everyone posed in attack and defense. Something had stopped the world from moving. But for now he decided to start hacking before the enemy unfroze.
 
Amidst the aftermath of battle Frobo-Arahorn stood knee deep in rivers of blood and hewn flesh.
A glance to his loyal companions confirmed what he felt was true.
He shrugged and murmured "Guess I did soil myself again".
 
I finally closed my eyes. I could hear soft whispering in the next room as I lay my head down onto my pillow. Sleep seemed like a mythical beast; I had heard of it but had never actually seen it. Just as my breathing slowed and I began drifting into a world of dreams, an alarm sounded. Well this wasn't going to be my night after all. I stood up and checked my gun to make sure it was loaded. Here we go again.
 
Smith pushed the statement across the table. "So that's it, all of it? No more lies, no more deception?"

I nodded.

"Then sign the bloody thing and we can put this sorry episode behind us."

I took the proffered pen and made my mark where he indicated. I'd always been a good liar.
 
I watched his eyes as the knife carved revenge into his gut. Mother was right, I realised, tingling with life as his drained away. Mercy was overrated.
 
No, it was me after all.
 
And so I gave him what the man who has everything really needs: a year's comprehensive health insurance ("no examination required").
 

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