In Honour of Your Presence

All was started off well with a vacant
    zero out of 7665.  

     

There were some occasional dissing here and there as a byproduct of an innocent youth and general ignorance plus a good dose of oblivious idiocy, but as they say, things take their turn and now she’s left with an über-dangerous
    55 out of 180. 

     

Score!
Alright I’ll do the math, that’s a whopping 30% increase. “It’s almost like having zebras in your bedroom,” she said, “so unlikely that you start to believe it’s happening”. She quickly transposed from Pluto to Mars. Welcome aboard to a space of redness, to a rocky surface, where all is set afire.

“This space is magic, would you be my iron lung?”

She is no machine but she fumes like one.
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