Day One Hundred Twenty Six:
Josh came up with a plan that might help us escape, while at the same time be a nice send off for AJ.
The main drawback to this plan is, we're going to have to tear ass out of here once the plan is set in motion and then hope to God we are able to track down something edible in the next couple days. Our supplies are meager at best, but it is what it is. We could try the silent approach but, sometimes to quote the late great Kurt Russel, "Son of a bitch must pay".
So tonight will be our last night here. Our plan is as follows:
One old fashioned wind up alarm clock.
One box of strike top matches.
One roll of duct tape.
Three boxes of carpenter nails.
Two propane tanks.
One severely damaged soul that will be laughing the entire time while we run away from a pile of smoldering corpses.
Fuck you Ex-humes. Fuck you very much.
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