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Any port in a storm, you figure, and lunge towards the bathroom. A foot from the door, a bullet takes more unimportant ear mass. You slam the door, lock it, and turn on the light.
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Bullets come flying through the door, so you throw yourself into the tub and begin wetting yourself. It's cramped since your pet priest is already seeking safety there, but he doesn't seem to mind.
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You suddenly have the urge to brush.--Go brush your teeth..............--Continue wetting yourself......
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