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Tank & Zaya love sex. Tank pleases Zaya,

  • Tank & Zaya love sex. Tank pleases Zaya, & Zaya Tank. Tank thinks Zaya's breasts are clouds. Zaya craves Tank's buttery touch. Tank smooths her soul, hits Zaya's secret nasty spot
  • with a deodorizing disinfectant since it was stinking up the joint. That's better Tank though to himself, ignoring Zaya's indignant look. She was busy making loomed potholders for
  • her grandparents. Oh how they loved holding pots, Zaya thought. She'd heard them talking about all kinds of pots the night before when they thought she was asleep. Acapulco gold
  • miners have always used copper pots in their mining operations, however with the recent currency crisis and the increased demand for copper many have sold their pots for pennies.
  • That what the banal economist told me as we hiked further into Mordoff's mountain. I heaved my dwarf axe at his briefcase. Papers flew down the tunnel and landed on the scaly claw
  • of the arcade machine. But then, I woke up from that horrible dream and witnessed the following terrible sight. Bea Arthur had
  • been baking cakes in the kitchen, talking up a storm. I could see the smoke billowing out of the oven -- the cakes were on fire. Bea didn't notice. Neither did the other Golden
  • One, entranced as she was by her tea leaves. "Um, Bea? Doesn't this combination mean..." But her words were lost in the explosion of fire, oven door, and cake bits.
  • The bodies were charred beyond recognition. So the coroner's report read simply that the crime scene was battery.
  • Keeping chickens in the same shed as the generator was the deadliest mistake the amateur chicken farmer could ever have made. His wife got the insurance and married the coroner.

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