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Summary
Kenny glanced at him. “Wanna talk about it?”
Kyle wrung his hands, waiting for his logic to tell him to shut up, but for some reason, he felt compelled. This taxi had a strange effect on him.
“Well, basically, I am not religious. But I once was.”
Stanley Marsh was a god: infallible and all-powerful, and Kyle Broflovski would have happily worshipped at his feet forever.
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In which Kyle tells his taxi driver what has been haunting him for years.