The Perils of a Cardboard Existence

The guy who created me did no back story on me. Not his fault. The deadline was tight, and the project was work for hire: a quick movie novelization. He had every reason to devote less time and energy to my particulars than he would normally have done. Only thing is, he didn’t give me any memories. None. So I need to find him and ask him to supply me with a few. Just something to keep me moored to reality. If you see him, tell him I’m pretty desperate. You’ll do that for me, won’t you? Won’t you please?

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