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Sincerely, The sign had said “Poisonous Cookies”. I had written it and taped it to my snack, hoping my coworkers would catch the hint and leave them alone. When lunchtime came around, my box of cookies was half empty, and all my co-workers laughed at me for being clever, but admitted that they ate my cookies anyway. How sane is it to eat from a box labeled “Poisonous Cookies”? How sure can you be? The patients wouldn’t have eaten. Well, the suicidal ones, sure, but not the others. Sheos, in his cell in solitary confinement, wouldn’t have touched them. (I know you’ve seen his story. He is still safely in his cell. Don’t believe a word he says.) James was the only smart one on my shift. Of course, I told him yesterday that they were really poisoned. So, out of fifteen people, James and I are the only ones left alive. Am I lying? Of course I am. Deborah’s a diabetic, so she didn’t eat the cookies, either. Now she’s locked in solitary across from Sheos. Enjoy the stories. But don’t eat the cookies. Dear Readers, Rev. Brian Worley
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