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...tions...not with slugs.  His coworker and friend, Carter, however, was not interested in listening to Travis ramble on about imaginary slugs all day, or imaginary submarines, for that matter.  He said as much.

"Travis," He said it gently, as if talking to a child. "I think you should get back to work now."

"Back to work!?" Travis spit out.  Carter whipped his head around to be sure no one else was witnessing the insanity. "The slugs! I mean...slugs!" Travis, unfortunately, was not very coherent at that moment.

"Okay, okay, Why don't you go for a walk, then?" Or a doctor, maybe? Carter thought to himself sarcastically.  Travis was beginning to get on his last nerve.

"A walk..." Travis considered the idea and decided, yes, a walk would be nice.  It would at least get all the eyes of those slugs off his back.  (His next thought was: Do slugs have eyes? Either way, he needed some air.)

Travis ventured out into the street.

"You know, I think that Boeing 747 is double parked."

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