A burning silhouette shuffles past, its screams and movements barely resembling those of a human being. Rubber, oil, flesh - whatever can burn is adding another strand, another scent to the plume of black smoke rising up to mark the site for the Grim Reaper. Crawling out of a wreck, consciousness stuck on pause at the moment of impact, you see an angelic figure leaning down, reaching out a smartphone. "OMFG!! You're totally alive! Let's take a selfie! With that thing sticking out your back, ok?"
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