I was stealing saltshakers again. Ten, sometimes twelve a night, shoving them in my pockets, hiding them up my sleeves, smuggling them out of bars and diners and anywhere else I could find them. In the morning, wherever I woke up, I was always covered in salt. I was cured meat. I had become beef jerky. Even as a small, small child, I knew it would one day come to this.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 8924 | 2024-12-14 14:57:30 | 101.25 | 99.2% |
| 8311 | 2024-08-05 03:47:09 | 82.00 | 97.8% |
| 7280 | 2022-11-25 13:49:55 | 92.26 | 97% |
| 5296 | 2022-05-23 08:34:25 | 79.98 | 97% |