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The explosion repeated, folded up on a piece of space and placed in a pocket of the beetv, who likes to collect such moments. Often, at the end of the day, the tv, resting upsidedown on a dark ceiling, or tucked into an abandoned comb (or gently resting against the bones of your inner ear) will pull out these scraps of moving space-time, and stare, watching the action over and over again.