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Action: Wortle and his dad are watching an opossum at the zoo.
Wortle: Father... this possum will die in exactly three minutes.
Narration: Three minutes later...
Action: The opossum falls from its branch, dead.
Wortle: I wish I didn't have this preternatural ability to predict death. It... it scares me father!
Father of Wortle: Wortle my son, if we can sneak this possum out of here, we will have a delicious dinner. Hoot!