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It's warm, thick, the faintest bit of salty, you notice now just how rock-hard you are. You're nearly on your edge from watching this show alone, and this faint warmth radiates from your temple, where the chip lies. After almost an entire minute of gathering yourself, you look up to an already rock-hard red panda, still around the two-minute mark, the air in this glass-covered chamber a visible brownish-green tint that permeates the whole thing.