I just realized that we wrote this at 3 am, anyways this is Chapter 9

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We were in the 4th dimension writing this-C

I think Martin needs a therapist and Maria isn't a good one. - M

For just a dollar a day you can help Martin seek the professional help he needs - C

"Mariaaaaa, the authorities are onto me. I'm gonna have to move away to Mexico so they'll never rediscover my trail."

"That's the most stereotypical place ever to run away to. You'll last at most a week without McDonald's, and even if you manage to make it into Mexico, you'll be tracked down in like two days for sneaking through without a passport."

"Maria, there are McDonald's everywhere."

"I don't think that's the mcfreakin point."

"Okay, okay, jeez. Don't you wanna know why the authorities are after me, anyway?"

"I have multiple assumptions. Number one, the weed thing. Number two, you're finally getting caught for that lollipop you stole from ShopRite in third grade. Or number three, you've been drinking a concerning amount of Gatorade in the past week and the American government is taking you down for mass liquid consumption."

"...dear lord, Maria, you're worse than me."
"Glad we figured that out."

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