The Joker strikes?

Son of a bitch.

I’m wearing my Joker shirt. I brought my Joker fitted sheet for the air mattress sitting on Pouya’s floor. We drove four hours to get here, and had to navigate the Byzantine Atlanta highway system that decided to close all exits on I-75 (helpfully posting signs in the middle of said highway informing us we should “plan alternate routes”).

Backup plan for tonight, as of now: steal the IMAX projector from the museum and bring it to the mall. Sorry kid, learn about deep sea creatures some other time. We need to see an 8-story dead actor.

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