You remember back when you were about 11 and your mother pointed you toward your corner of the bedroom and said, 'clean it' and you couldn't do anything fun until you had and this mess was so wide and so deep and so tall you could not clean it up there was no way at all and you seriously seriously wondered if maybe you should just run away and become a drug addicted hooker living in a flop house in the nearest major city because it would just be so much easier ?
That's what Chapter Twelve is like, but duller.
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