Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A/N: Thanks to those who reviewed. You make my life worth living.

Terra Incognita

Chapter 2: The Wary Hours

They can make things worse for me

Sometimes I'd rather die

They can tell me lots of things

But I can't see eye to eye

Bloodstains, The Offspring

The drive was agonizing.

The entire time, Terrence had the horrible impression that Death was sitting in the car with them, making things ten times as awkward. Mac's mom hadn't said a word to him, nor Mac. She just went about driving, every now and then making a sound, signifying that she was trying not to cry. He knew she felt guilty. But he didn't care.

Mac on the other hand, looked somewhere between traumatized and excited. Terrence didn't have to guess that this was caused by the fact that he was leaving, and the fact that Mac now had permission from his mom to see Bloo every day. He had overheard the conversation today as he packed some of his things, and Mac's mom had decided that it wasn't fair to Mac that he couldn't see his best friend when she could go see Terrence. In fact, he later learned that Mac had given her the idea that Foster's was the best place to take him, instead of dropping him off at whatever place she had originally intended. In doing that, Mac had come clean about his daily visits to see his friend.

Terrence stared out the window, that ever-present look of malice and discontent plastered on his young face. Mom wanted to visit him in his new prison? He wouldn't let her. When you get rid of something, you usually never see it again. Why should this be any different?

While his 'brother' sat there moping, Mac was in a vortex of confusion. All these years of lying. Was he supposed to feel sad that his brother was really a figment of the imagination? As the one always on the receiving end of the fights, he should've been happy that Terrence was leaving and he wouldn't have to get beaten up any more. But he didn't. He felt miserable. He didn't think that Terrence was capable of being anything other than a monster, but after what had happened the night before, he thought otherwise.

Terrence had been so confused, so vulnerable. So human. When Mac had started to leave his room the night before, he was sure that Terrence was fight-free. But then the boy had let that anger thing get to him again, and he went brutal. Now Mac wasn't sure what to think of him. Was he an imaginary friend with hatred locked inside? Or was he a monster with a lingering emotion? The child just wasn't sure.

The car came to an eased halt and Mom and Mac got out, stopping on the sidewalk to wait for Terrence. He sat in his seat for a moment, looking through the glass at the place he would now call home. Something traveled up his spine; he thought it might've been sadness or something to that effect, but shrugged it off and got out.

He had to admit, it did have kind of a 'homey' feel and the building was pretty nice looking considering how OLD is must've been. The owner sounded crazy too.

Mac had explained a few things earlier about the place; things that included avoiding getting stuck on the roof and being wary of Herriman's love of rules. Of course, Terrence was already aware to stay away from Duchess, something he was quite certain he wouldn't do, simply because he didn't HAVE to. If he was going to have to live there, he might as well make the most of it. Living there....he felt sick just thinking about it.

They reached the door and with a hearty knock from Mac, waited in silence. Mac's mom put her arms around her would-be-son, but he swatted her away, unable to comprehend how she could betray him then pretend that she still cared.

The door creaked open and a lanky redhead greeted then, her thin shadow falling over Terrence. "Hi, welcome to Foster's. What can I...do...for...you........"She raised an eyebrow, her gaze set solely on the teenager standing in the doorway, and placed her hand on her hip. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

Terrence stared, chewing on his lip, and it was around that time that Mac stepped forward, his smile warm and comforting. "Hey Frankie. This is Terrence. He was the one who adopted Bloo a while back. Remember?"

Frankie thought for a moment, her eyes burning a hole right through Terrence's soul. He shuddered absent-mindedly, hating every minute of the introduction. He was never good at first impressions.

"Oh yeah." the girl realized suddenly, somewhat excited by the memory. "I remember now...what's he doing here?"

This time, Mom stepped up, looking as though she were trying to avoid eye contact. "Maybe we should go inside. I'm Mac's mother. I have....a friend to drop off..."

Frankie shot all three a questionable look, but led the way inside. Terrence, however, hesitated. So this would be his home? God, it was so big; there must've been at least a million rooms.

As soon as Mac had entered, a familiar shriek could be heard above everything else; Bloo's battle cry erupted as he raced down the steps, ignoring Herriman's shout for him to stop running and screaming and such. He leapt off of the stairs, slamming into his small friend, and they fell to the ground.

Mr. Herriman, who had coincidently been hopping by when Bloo had begun his little "welcome back, Mac" routine, was less than amused and hopped over where the blue friend and Mac lay on the ground, laughing as friends tend to do. As expected, he started his daily scolding.

Frankie sighed, turning her attention back to Mom and Terrence. "I'm Frankie. You said you had a friend to drop off?"

"Hey, Mac," Bloo replied, ignoring Herriman altogether. "Why are your mom and brother here? Are they trying to adopt or something? "Cuz that just wouldn't make any sense. Unless they want to re-claim me?" He added the last part hopefully.

"Actually," Mac answered, his bright attitude falling somewhat. "My mom, she's dropping ...someone off. HER imaginary friend....it's a long story."

"So make it short," Bloo ordered. Mac paid no attention.

Mom nodded, her gaze shifting from Frankie to Terrence, then back to Frankie again. "Yes, I have an imaginary friend I need to drop off here..." She glanced back at Terrence with her soft eyes, staring into his. But unlike her gentle, saddened gaze, he glared, hard, hatred and betrayal swirled together in two small puddles of black. She had no choice but to look away.

"Well, don't be so rude, Miss Francis," Mr. Herriman lost all interest in Mac and Bloo, and hopped over, adjusting his monocle. "Let's get the newest addition all set and comfortable. I'm sure you wouldn't mind giving the tour," he replied, his suggestion sounding much more like an order than anything else.

Frankie glared.

Mr. Herriman didn't seem to notice. "Now, where is the poor creature?" he regarded Mac's mother, waiting for the woman to speak up.

She didn't however, unable to allow Terrence's name from her lips. Tears began to swell up in her eyes again, and she looked away. There was a pause, an awkwardness no one seemed capable of fighting off.

The tension was almost unbearable for the friend in question, and he stood there staring, waiting for the woman to shove him forward with a "take him."

That didn't happen.

Suddenly, Mac came forward to the rescue once again, waving his arm up in the air for attention. He stopped in front of Terrence and gestured towards him. "This is Terrence. He's the one my mom was talking about, and he needs a place to stay."

Mr. Herriman coughed slightly, the way an old man tries to accomplish in a subtle way, but ends up chocking on his own flem instead. "Certainly not," he answered. "This is a home for imaginary friends, not a daycare center. The thought of a human running about the house, not to mention sleeping, eating, and above all, LIVING at Foster's is quite preposterous."

Frankie glared again, and this time, the large rabbit saw it. He immediately coughed again, and added, "With exception to Miss Francis of course, who should be getting back to her respected chores."

She did no such thing, growling back at him, "I'm trying to get the situation figured out. Besides, he needs to get settled in, and who better to do help with that than me."

"ME!" Bloo shrieked, but he backed down under Frankie's hardened gaze.

"But he is an imaginary friend," Mac pleaded. "My mom even has a picture of when she was little and he's in there! How can there be any better proof than that?" He grabbed his mother's purse, ignoring her gasp from surprise at his sudden action and pulled out the photo, flashing it in front of Mr. Herriman and Frankie. "My mom created him when she was just a little girl. He's supposed to look human."

He knew it would come in handy to have mom bring the picture, just in case they didn't, and obviously wouldn't, believe that Terrence was an imaginary friend. He just looked too human to pass off for anything else.

Frankie took the photograph from his small hands and inspected it carefully. Finally looking up, she smiled kindly and replied, "Welcome to Foster's."

"So you believe us, Frankie?" Mac seemed ecstatic. "Thank God. I was almost afraid you wouldn't." He turned his attention to Terrence, who still hadn't said a word, and by this time, was on the verge of doing something drastic. Maybe running away forever.

Mr. Herriman took the picture from Frankie and gave it a good inspection himself. This was followed by a quick look at Terrence. The rabbit adjusted his monocle once more and observed the boy, hopping around him in a quick circle.

Terrence was suddenly very self-conscious. Just having anyone look at him was weird enough, but to have someone do it simply to make sure you were what everyone claimed you were was downright unreal. He shifted, slouched, and lowered his head, his eyes cast on the carpet before him.

Maybe if that stupid rabbit said he wasn't an imaginary friend, Mac's mom would have no choice but to take him home, and then he could go on with making everyone's lives a living hell. It was the only thought he had to help him go on for the moment.

"Very well," Mr. Herriman finally replied, all skeptical thoughts gone. "I'm sure he will make a fine addition to Foster's and someone might adopt him before anyone knows it," he glanced at Terrence again. "Or perhaps not. Ms. Francis, please do not forget to give him a nice tour of the house and show him where he will be sleeping." That said, he hopped off, already scolding someone for whatever reason.

Frankie sighed, relieved that he had finally gone. She turned to Terrence and the smile became present on her face once more. "Well,...what was your name again?"

Terrence couldn't even blink let alone say his own name. It was unbelievable. Everything was just so unbelievable. Within a measly 12 hours, his life had been shattered, his home and his family were taken from him, and everything he had known was one giant slur of lies. He shuddered violently, still staring at the floor, and wrapped his arms around himself, feeling suddenly very cold.

"Hey, are you okay?" Frankie asked, waving her hand gently in front of his face. She looked at Mac's mom. "How long have you had him? I know a lot of times people like to keep their imaginary friends, but if you're just giving him up now, he could be traumatized."

"I've had him....since I was four..."

Pause, then, "wow."

"Hold it, hold it, hold it," Bloo interrupted the 'conversation.' "You're not honestly going to let HIM live here, are you? Are you insane?! You know all those cuts and bruises Mac has every time he comes to visit?! That's from Terrence! He's a psy-" The blob was silenced by none other than his best friend. Mac was quick to clamp a hand over Bloo's mouth, turning anything else he had to say into mere muffles.

"Don't worry about it, Frankie," Mac offered. "Bloo's crazy. Must be all that sugar."

"Ooookay...." Frankie eyed them strangely. She turned back to Mac's mom again and told her heartily, "Don't worry. Terrence will be in good care here. I'll make sure of it."

"Would it be okay if I, maybe, could visit him?" Mom questioned, her eyes gleaming with hope.

Frankie did a strange half-shrug and, still smiling, replied, "Of course. But he can be adopted if you're not around. This is a foster home, after all." She then looked at Terrence, who jumped at the sight of such a kind-hearted face. "Are you ready for the tour?"

He shrugged, not saying a word. A hand touched his shoulder, and he pushed it away as he had done earlier, knowing full well who it belonged to.

"I'll visit you as often as I can, okay sweetie? I love you. I really do..."

A cold chill caught his body, and he felt like he would throw up. The room was spinning, the ceiling was caving in, and the world was dead. He felt the anger squirm back into his system, gnawing and tearing at his insides. It hurt.

He answered, never turning to face the woman, never caring how she would feel. The words made her cry out and leave as quickly as possible; they made every other being in the room cringe, and both Bloo and Frankie stood in complete shock. Only Mac could understand why he said it.

"I HATE you."

The silence after became much worse than what the drive had proved to be.

--- ---

---Lost Memories---

"I had a nightmare last night," she said, lying down on her bed, her head hanging over the edge so that she could stare at him.

He mumbled something, absent-mindedly ignoring her every word. She made a face, not knowing what could be more important than what she had to say. He was SUPPOSED to listen.

"The house is on fire," she replied.

He remained motionless, still staring off, mumbling to himself.

"Boys are stupid."

He mumbled again, louder this time, but she was oblivious to what he had said.

Finally, when she had had enough, a small scream emerged from her lips. "TERRENCE!"

He jerked his head, suddenly snapping out of his trance. "What? What's wrong? Is the house on fire?! Are you okay?" He stopped himself from questioning further when he noticed the look on her young face. It was intimidating the way she looked at him sometimes when he wasn't paying attention.

He cleared his throat and spoke, "Um, sorry. What were you saying? It was something about a boy, right? ...Or a monster....or...what?"

She rolled her eyes. "For your information, I was talking about the nightmare I had last night, but know that you mention it, there is this boy I like..."

Terrence sat there, still staring off into space. "Yeah? Who is it this time?...Oh wait! It's not that stupid football player is it? Ike Johnson?! That guy is a mega jerk! Plus, he sucks, as both a football player and a person in general!!"

She stared off lazily, looking at him, stars and hearts shooting out from her eyes, metaphorically that is. "No," she replied shyly. "He's...he's different. He's special...And I want to be with him forever... and I'm hoping he feels the same way about me...?"

Terrence slumped in his seat. "Well, as long as he doesn't ruin any of our plans. I don't want to see you marrying some asshole, ya know. Then its like, we'll both be married to him or something...Is he, like, a movie star or whatever? Is he even your age? 12 is too young to fall in love anyway....you should be doing twelve year old things...not falling in love with guys that aren't your age..."

She thought a moment. "Well, he's more or less my age...something like that. Besides, its not like age matters, especially when its true love."

"I guess..."

"Will you love me forever?"

"Of course," he answered, smiling at her lovingly. "Will you love me forever?" He said this somewhat jokingly, not expecting an answer.

She reached over, hugging his head, and resting her cheek against his forehead. He wanted to ask her what she was doing, but couldn't quite get the words out. So he stayed silent, listening to her hum a strange little song, and finally answer, "'till the day I die. I'll never let you go."

--- ---

He had to admit, the house was indeed one of the strangest places he had ever had the opportunity to see. The décor was what he had expected for such a run down-looking, old place, but the creatures he saw...damn, it was unbelievable.

This Wilt-or whatever his name was- person was one of the weirdest looking things he had ever, EVER seen in his entire life. When Frankie had first introduced the two, he couldn't help but notice how tall the thing was, towering a good forty feet above him. Well, maybe not THAT tall, but he was still pretty up there.

The things he would see later were even weirder.

The upside to what Terrence considered to be one of the most unfair ordeals in all of his life was that, beyond any logical thinking he could manage, Mac had actually stayed with him during the tour. The poor boy he beat up time and time again; pulverized, threw, punched, kicked, and so on, had actually stayed with him to make sure he was okay.

There were times, he felt justified in hitting the kid. Mac could be so naïve sometimes.

They passed door after door, each time with Wilt explaining what was behind most of them, floor after floor, the stairs becoming more and more dreadful every time. Terrence felt his legs start to ache with soreness, and he pleaded silently that the tour was almost over.

While he was sure the tour was just marvelous to listen to (as if), he was still far too depressed to pay attention. Maybe it was his words that were getting to him, rather than the entire situation for the moment. He knew he had hurt her, but she deserved it, didn't she? She deserved everything he could throw at her. She deserved to have her family ripped from her, just as he had his ripped away. In his mind, in all of his logical, she deserved to be alone. Just like he was.

In his thoughts, he hadn't noticed that a rather frightening shadow had stepped out into the hallway, watching him closely as many of the other friends scampered away, unwilling to be in the certain path of fire.

It took him a full moment to notice that Wilt had stopped, and by then he had already gone walking into the tall creature's thin legs. Before he could utter a complaint, a familiar voice rang out, sending a series of shudders racing up his spine.

"Terrence," it cooed, the thick accent almost liquefying in his ears, He trembled, remembering just how disgusted it made him feel. "I never would have thought," the voice sounded almost as disgusted as he felt.

"Duchess, what are you doing out of your room?" Bloo groaned loudly. "The one time you decide to come out, and I have to be around to hear you complain about how much better you are than us. Let's get this over with then. Go ahead and tell us what a dump this place and yadda yadda yadda so we can just not listen and ignore you..."

Duchess made a face, though it was slightly hard to see on her already distorted expression. "For your information, I simply came out to see if it was true." Her gaze was still on Terrence, who still hadn't stood up. He lay on the floor, leaning back on his elbows. He glared. Duchess glared back.

"If I had known you were coming, I would have requested that they put locks on the doors," she hissed, watching with hidden delight when he didn't say anything. "I can't believe that they would allow a little hoodlum like you to go running about in and out of rooms, stealing things as you please."

Wilt opened his mouth to speak, to politely ask Duchess to refrain from speaking, but she shot him a look and he kept his mouth shut. She turned back to Terrence. He had by this point, turned a horrid shade of red, and bit down hard, drawing blood. The cut was very visible on his lower lip when he jumped up and pointed an accusing finger at her.

He had opened his mouth, but nothing came out. No comebacks, no curses, no screaming. God, how he wanted to. He wanted to let it all out, make his throat burn and ache with the unleashing of his thoughts. He wanted to scream and scream and scream until his throat was raw and torn, until he couldn't speak, until someone had had enough of it and killed him.

God, how he wanted too, but he couldn't. The words, his voice; they just weren't there for him to let go of. It was as if they had been torn right out of his body, to make sure that he suffered in silence. He felt something in his eye, blurring his already hazy vision, but he blinked it away and looked from Duchess to the end of the hallway. It was then he realized there was something over his mouth, blocking all would-be verbalized thoughts from coming out. He realized it was Mac.

Mac clung to his back, one arm wrapped around Terrence's shoulder, and the other curved around his head to cover his lips. He shivered against Terrence's body, and for a moment, the boy seemed to be crying.

Terrence couldn't understand it. Mac must have thought that he was really going to scream at her. But had he covered his 'brother's' mouth for Terrence's sake, or for Duchess'? Why would he do it for either? Neither of the two were nice to him. Maybe it was just so he wouldn't have to hear it.

Gently, his eyes back on Duchess, he pulled Mac's hand away from his mouth, pulled the child over his shoulder and set him carefully on the ground next to him. He didn't know why he had been so careful in doing this, but it wasn't something he felt the need to think about for very long. His gaze never left Duchess, and her gaze never left him.

Wilt shook his head quickly, snapping out of whatever silence he had been locked in and finally replied, that smile back on his scarlet features, "Would you like to continue with the tour, Terrence? There's lots more to see."

Terrence didn't answer, but when he felt Mac's hand wrap around his to lead him away, he didn't protest.

As the group faded in sight down the corridor, Duchess averted her eyes from the boy and slipped back into her room, silently, pondering things that no one would ever know of.

--- ---

Terrence didn't thank Mac for what he had done. No, that would be a sign of weakness; it would be admitting that he did need him, and if Mac found that out, Terrence would never live it down. As soon as Duchess could no longer be seen, he yanked his hand away from the small boy, "Ech! Get away from me!" and stomped off ahead of him, leaving Mac with his best friend Bloo.

Mac seemed to have expected this, since he immediately began talking to Bloo as if none of it had ever happened. But, the teenager did feel somewhat bad, even though he would never admit it to himself, let alone anyone else. He wondered if Wilt realized that he was practically talking to himself, since he was mostly lost in his own thoughts. He couldn't help it; everything was just so....messed up.

Behind him, as they headed up the stairs to another floor (Terrence had lost track of just how many floors the house had) , he could hear Bloo yammering on and on and on, probably complaining. He remembered now, after months of the apartment being Bloo-free, that the blue blob liked to talk and complain. Actually, maybe it wasn't complain... whatever it was, it annoyed the hell out of Terrence. He felt the urge to hurt someone compelling him.

"Aw, Mac. Your mom's plan to get rid of Terrence is great!" Bloo remarked, doing anything but complaining. "There's just one thing I don't understand: I don't get it."

Mac sighed.

"I mean, really," Bloo continued. "Sure, it gets him out of your house, but what about Foster's? The jerk is gonna kill us all. And how did you two actually get Frankie and Herriman to believe that he's an imaginary friend?"

"Because he is," Mac answered, becoming frustrated. He rubbed one of his temples.

"Yeah, real funny, Mac," Bloo chuckled. "No, seriously. I want to be in on the plan here. So spill it out already. I'm your best friend. I have a right to know."

"We'll be best friends forever..."

Terrence shook his head suddenly. Those words...he hated it when someone said something that sparked off some weird memory. They were memories now, he knew. Not just something random as he had originally thought all those years. They always seem to resurface more when Mac and Bloo were around. They would always say something to set it off.

He had to put a stop to this.

"Hey!" Terrence snarled, turning his head to glare at them viciously. "Shut up!! I wouldn't want to have to beat the crap outta you in front of all your stupid friends!"

Wilt stopped in mid-sentence, pointing one of the other rooms to him -Terrence of course wasn't paying attention-and turned to look at the three. "I'm sorry, Terrence, but threatening other friends and quests is not okay. Its something that can get you kicked out, and then where would you go?"

Terrence shrugged, scowling. "I dunno...away from you. Just show me where I haveta sleep. I don't want to see more of this stupid house than I need to," he hissed, his eyes focused on the scarlet friend before him. In truth, he hadn't meant to say it, but he was glad that he did.

Wilt stared at him, un-amused, but doing a fantastic job at hiding it. He nodded, and they began heading down the steps, taking a total u-turn.

Terrence followed, in wonder of what his room would look like. By the looks of all those imaginary friends, he would probably be sharing one with a couple others. Why did this sound so familiar...?

Joeh. It finally came to him. His old friend Joeh, who had been hauled away the previous year and sent to an asylum for practicing Satanism. He had killed so many animals, hurt so many other people, set things on fire. So they picked him up and sent him away.

Now Terrence knew how he felt to some extent. The big difference, other than the fact that Joeh was human and Terrence wasn't, was that Joeh didn't have a family. He didn't have anyone to leave behind.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Terrence was thrown out of his thoughts, finding that they had stopped and Wilt was standing over him. He rubbed his forehead, and finally said, "yeah, I guess. So where's it at already?"

Wilt opened the door to the room they were next to, revealing its contents. He grinned merrily. "You'll be staying with us: Bloo, Eduardo, Coco, and myself. Since you used to live with Bloo, Mr. Herriman thought it would be easier for you to get settled in if you stayed with someone you knew."

Terrence stared in. They didn't seem to realize that he and Bloo hadn't, didn't, and would never, EVER get along.

It was strange. When Wilt had opened that door, Terrence had expected to see his own room there. The one he had just the day before. What was really inside threw him off suddenly. His stomach began to ache; his head throbbed; he felt numb all over. This isn't my home, he thought. This isn't my home. I don't recognize this....oh God... I feel sick...I feel sick I feel sick I wanna go home...I feel sick...

He glanced back at Bloo, then back at Wilt, and felt the vomit flow up his throat.

"Oh man!" Bloo shrieked, jumping behind Mac. "That's DISGUSTING!! God, I'd hate to be the one to clean that mess up! Gross...!"

Mac immediately rushed to Terrence's side as the older boy sank to his knees, and then to his elbows, covering his mouth as the taste lingered strongly. He closed his eyes tight, the excess vomit clinging to his tongue, making him want to vomit again.

Tears began to swell up in his eyes. It burned. Everything burned. He fell over on his side, just barely missing his own puddle of chuck , and lay there, still closing his eyes, still covering his mouth, still feeling the fire from his own stomach acid.

"Terrence! Terrence, are you okay?" Mac knelt next to him, placing his small hand on his shoulder. "Wilt, go get Mr. Herriman...or Frankie! Yeah, get Frankie. She'll know what to do!"

"Alright, Mac. Don't panic. I'll be right back. I promise!" Wilt answered, sprinting down the hallway, and several friends stuck their heads out of the rooms as he ran by, yelling, "Frankie! Frankie!"

Bloo moved up next to Mac, and both stared at Terrence. He was still a wreck, and suddenly vomited again, then dropped his head down on the floor, accidentally right into the new pile. Mac was quick to grab his shoulder and began to drag him a short ways from where he had just thrown up .

It became all too obvious that Terrence wasn't going to try and get up, and he was still too heavy for Mac to pull on his own. "Bloo, I need your help. Help me drag him into the bedroom. If we can get him into one of the beds, he'll probably feel a little better."

Bloo made a face. "What? No way. This is Terrence we're talking about here. Let him help himself, Mac. Remember all the things he'd done to you? All the things he's done to us? All the times he's beaten us up and hurt you and lied to you? C'mon, Mac. Forget it, okay?" Bloo turned away, hearing Terrence groan every other second or so. "Besides, you said so yourself: he's not even really your brother ."

Mac shot him a look of his own. "Just because he's not my brother doesn't mean I don't care about him, Bloo. Your not thinking of all the good things he's done for us, like when we were little and he'd take us trick-or-treating. Or when he would watch cartoons with us and tell us how they did all that stuff and how no matter how many times Daffy Duck got blown up, he'd always be back again. C'mon, Bloo. We need your help."

Bloo gave in. Mac was right, after all. Before something in Terrence had become violent, he had been a pretty decent guy. He had been nice and protective. Just like a real big brother. So Bloo nodded and grabbed hold of poor teenager, and the two began to drag him into the bedroom.

Terrence had long since passed out, hoping he'd never wake up.

--- ---

--- ---

A/N: Hopefully, this is as bad as the chapters get. I had an idea for this one, but it kind of went flushie flushie down the toilet.

Ike Johnson - I had a crush named Mike Thompson in school a while ago. He too was a football player with a really shitty personality.

Vomit is one of my favorite words. Vooooooommmmiiiiiittt....

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