"This feels a bit unsafe," the rifle said.
"What will I turn into for drinking here?"
Asked Alice, hoarse of voice. Her eyes were red,
And her expression -- well, it wasn't fear
Contorting her tired features. "No, that ain't
The hazard I'm suspecting," she was told.
Before her cracked lips issued new complaint
(The mist was so inviting, clean and cold!)
The pair of them were swarmed, trapped in a cloud
That bit and scratched in microscopic ways.
"Oh no, it's metal-mites, and such a crowd!"
A screech resounded. Girl and gun, whose days
Together had brought ruin, now were done
As partners. "Hey, you're bleeding, dummy. Run!"
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