The camera lands with soft thud in the carpet. A second later, a magazine flutters down on top of it. It is a playboy, and you notice an exact copy of the magazine lying over the arm of the couch - the one the camera had been pointing at just before the flash.
"Okay, I believe you," you say, picking the magazine copy up by its corner. "You spent five thousand on a piece of technology that can turn you into anything, and then used it to make yourself into a porno. I can honestly believe you'd be that dumb."
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