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Your grandfather was injured in a freak elk hunting accident while reading 'literature' in the outhouse. Uncle Russes shot ricocheted off the elks antlers through the moon cutout
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and struck ole grandaddy in his artificial hip. Just a few more inches...The bullet deflected, piercing the centerfold's head. "Russ!" he screamed, dropping the mag and pulling up
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a hand held gattling gun. Grandaddy cranked the handle, the barrels erupted like like solar flares, swarms of bullets shredded evil playboy bunnies. I could see his artificial hip
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Flutter for a few seconds as he brewed his glogg. This batch contained monkeyfruit and snakefruit. It was unique, as always. I helped label the bottles for sale.
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But facing backwards, so only their backs could be seen. But even then passers-by could recognise what they were, and soon the little shop was filled with curious customers asking
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"How much?" Slaves R Us' owner was thrilled---not letting customers see everything only whip up their interests. Yet for all these foot traffic, no one bought a damn thing.
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"We sold a small bottle of squab juice but that was only because a little kid knocked it over and it broke and the kid's dad taught him a lesson and took it out of his allowance &
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well...we just don't take kindly to that kind of tyrannical parenting 'round these parts." And so, for what became an historical event, also marked the first invocation of
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of the Stern but Fair Parenting Proclamation which survived nearly as long as knowledge of the historical event did. To the annoyance of all children both were taught annually.
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