Okay, I'm torn; it's not like I want to spend my undead existence in a pink vat miles below sea level dreaming of my own voiceless screams of horror while Child fruitlessly tries to clone me in his skull-shaped Pacific Island headquarters surrounded by mindless minions (some of whom will have such colorful names as The Murder of Crows, The Albatross of Despair, The One Without a Cool Name, look, he's fifteen and plays Magic the Gathering after school; what do you expect?), nor am I entirely comfortable with his plans to create a hybrid human-reptile army (or a cockroach-human hybrid army for radiation survival purposes).
But. I am his mother, and he brings me coffee when I want it. Should I tell him about this Nebraska threat or not?
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