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|Diner Dash||Score: 0||Moves: 6|
You piss them more off by waiting.
There is a couple waiting at the front of the line, who just threw a hand grenade neatly into your hair bun.
You try, but you just end up messing up your poor hair.
You spend your last seconds wondering why you even opened this diner anyways.
As you take your last breath, you feel relieved of your burdens. The feeling passes as you find yourself before the gates of Hell, where the spirits jeer at you and deny you entry. Your senses are disturbed. The objects in the dungeon appear indistinct, bleached of color, even unreal.
You appear to be made of a translucent floating white substance. There seems to be a golden halo hovering above your head.