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28 pages, Kindle Edition
First published December 14, 2011

Carl asks, “Does anyone know what these spacemen are up to?”
“Many guys will give you answers,” I say, “but they are talking through their hats. Nobody knows why spacemen come all the way from Mars or Jupiter just to kill dolls who are friendly for cupcakes. Maybe a spaceman boss loses his doll to a busboy, and it drives him screwy. He shoots all the dolls on Jupiter, but it does not make him feel better, so he sends his spacemen here to shoot some more.”
“That is bad,” Carl says, looking grim. I never see Carl look this way. He never laughs, but never frowns either. Philosophers do not get worked up.

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