PAM sharpens her butcher’s knife. It gleams. Gleams like her future. She tosses a twig into that air—it slices as it hits the blade. “IS IT—” she snarls, “the same as LAST YEAR?!” With a single swing, she cuts the tree in half. “ISSSSS—IIIIT?!” The knife gleams like her future, FREE OF JEFF.
PAM sharpens her butcher’s knife. It gleams. Gleams like her future. She tosses a twig into that air—it slices as it hits the blade. “IS IT—” she snarls, “the same as LAST YEAR?!” With a single swing, she cuts the tree in half. “ISSSSS—IIIIT?!” The knife gleams like her future, FREE OF JEFF.