Well? She asked, with pink fuzzy balls rising. Calm yourself, a voice in your head says. There is no wrong answer.

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The cross-examination was already intense, but the presence of the interrogator made it even more intimidating. She was a woman with horns hanging from her head, her eyes piercing and her voice cold as ice. She sat behind a large desk, flipping through a stack of papers and staring at me with a look of disdain.

As the interrogation began, I could feel my nerves start to fray. The questions came rapid-fire, and I struggled to keep up. With each wrong answer, the interrogator flicked a pink, fuzzy ball at me, and the impact stung like a slap.

I tried to keep my composure, but the pressure was mounting. The interrogator was relentless, never letting up for a moment. She seemed to take pleasure in my discomfort, and I could see a glint of satisfaction in her eyes each time she hit me with a ball.

But I knew that I had to keep going, to stay strong and not let the interrogator get the best of me. I focused all my energy on answering each question to the best of my ability, trying to think quickly and logically.

As the cross-examination continued, I began to gain some ground. I started to get a feel for the interrogator’s tactics, anticipating her questions and countering her arguments. The pink, fuzzy balls still came, but they no longer seemed to hurt as much.

In the end, I emerged from the cross-examination with my head held high. I had held my own against the intimidating interrogator with horns, and I knew that I had given it my all. The experience had been challenging, but it had also taught me an important lesson about resilience and strength in the face of adversity.

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