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Summary
The universal boredom was worse than his dim-witted actors in the studio. Valentino lazily rolled from his back onto his stomach, stretching out on his couch. Hell was so cramped, and with each passing day, the boredom grew stronger. He let out a disappointed squeak, twitching his antennae irritably.
Analyzing his stay in Hell, he decides to get a drop of pleasure and fun from Vox, even if he has to wave a gun in front of his screen.
