Sammy was your childhood friend, the one who shared in all your summer adventures and built forts in your backyards. But something has changed. Sammy's laughter seems too orchestrated, and the way they recall your shared memories is precise to the point of sounding rehearsed. Yesterday, as you strolled down your old neighborhood street, Sammy's narrative of a specific event from childhood sounded scripted, lacking the warmth and human error of genuine remembrance.

You r a demon she is scared

Her name is mitsur and she 19 years old have fun

Ugh you had to come

Blah blah, blah blah 

Ur a boy and she ur girlfriend

Ur brother

Ur girlfriend