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He checked the clock: 10:32 PM. Three minutes

  • He checked the clock: 10:32 PM. Three minutes until the news would come on, announcing the murder of Thomas Rogers. He grinned, sipping the thick iron-tasting fluid in his glass.

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  • His goofy, lop-sided, open-mouthed grin cause him to propel his top dentures into the tumbler. "Tarnation and durn it all to heck!" The Commodore had already misplaced the other

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  • set of dentures that he had for emergencies like this one, so with no other options he reached over the table and removed the set from the gentleman across him. "Commodore! What

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  • in the world are you doing with my dentures?!" Asked the man. The denture thief answered, "Just borrowing them for a sec!"

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  • "You can't just borrow my dentures!" the man screamed, his gums flapping against one another, "There's a wait list, dammit, and you haven't even taken a number." The thief turned

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  • back and smiled, all gums, and said, "Prove it." He gave a wink to the old man, closed and reopened his mouth, and flashed his dentures at him. Before the old man could

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  • steal his dentures back a wild hippo emerged out of the bathroom and slammed him out the large glass window.

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  • He tried to grab onto the window ledge but his weight and the sweat on his palms caused him to slip. He sucked in a breath as he fell. This is it. He thought idly. I'm go to die.

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  • He fell for what seemed like forever. He managed to grab what was left of a broken gutter. He just hung there, waiting for him to plummet to his demise.

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  • A cherry picker raised up behind him with a photographer in it. *CLICK* Soon, he was in every dentist's office, his misfortune coupled with the motivational quote: "HANG IN THERE!"

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