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A rapier's wit, as it turned out, was no

  • A rapier's wit, as it turned out, was no match for an actual rapier. He found himself buckling as his boots swashed blood and utter lack of control onto the planks. A writer had no

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  • business being there because he was a coward and out-of-shape. A deckhand put a sword in his hand and he shrieked and dropped it. It tumbled into the hold where

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  • it skewered a mask-wearing evil dude. He froze, unbelieving, his stomach threatening to hurl, his knees knocking. A blood-thirsty cheer thundered around him. "You got skillz," said

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  • the Lord High Chancellor of Sodomy. The Chancellor's encouragement & the roar of the crowd intoxicated him. He yanked his weapon from the gut of the evil dude & licked its tip. He

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  • then watched as the Martians landed, deplaned, and made Marshmallow sandwiches. The good kind, with the crusts removed and lots of ketchup top and bottom. He asked for one and

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  • they invited him to come over to the micro-fusion roaster, however poor Jimmy became the sandwich when the little green men through him on the roaster and then onto an English

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  • setter. The dog carried on as if a mouse had landed on the moon. The sandwich looked delicious, in a perverted way, similar to that of an angel. All at once, the little green

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  • bits of cucumber glistened in the eerie light nad strange voices began to sing.

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  • The Green Goddess cult choir raised their voices in praise of the diced cucumber, singing it's doxology, "Praise Salad upon which all dressings flow!

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  • and chicken caesar is the way to go hail the mighty julienned radishes Green Goddess lettuce leaves delicious - but Cucumber cubes are the star of the show!"

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