Native Jack screams and dives out of the way, as his alternate is struck squarely by the spell. A third of his body is ripped apart, the rest of him standing there, still holding a jar of pickles.
"I was busy, Marty."
The other Jack's head is sitting on the other side of the room... talking.
"Oh... oh I think I'm gonna puke... can I puke? Is that a thing I can do?" The color has drained from Native Jack's face.
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