(==>)

Whatever it is, Imode feels it. A tiny string of relevance spooling out from their belly. They want to follow it. They can't stop picturing their friend, Harry Anderson, arrested or tortured or worse. They're not sure what there is to be done to stop this chain of events, but they're sure as shit gonna find out.

IMODE: Fuck it.

IMODE: Stay here and 👢👅 your way into fame if that's what you really want.

IMODE: I'm ✈️. Follow me if you're not 🐔💩.