The sun was setting on the small, rural town of Zenith. The streets were quiet, the only sound being the occasional chirping of birds. In the corner of a dimly-lit alley, a computer programmer stood searching for a hippie named CTM. He had been searching for hours, to no avail. Suddenly, without warning, a pair of cargo shorts emerged from the shadows. The programmer felt a chill run down his spine as he realized something was off. He took a few steps back, but it was too late.
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