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"1 o'clock and alls well," the obnoxious

  • "1 o'clock and alls well," the obnoxious cockatiel squawked. Dr. Moodle's bloodshot eyes popped open just long enough to locate the bird and

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  • google an exotic recipe for yummy roast cockatiel. Dr. Moodle then lunged for the bird, who fluttered into his lab. The Doc barged in after it, and dove...into a vat of toxic guano

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  • lip balm. Dr. Moodle drowned in toxic moisturizer. Hours ticked away in the lab. When he awoke he had mutated. He was evil and soft. He was Mr. Lotion.

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  • He rubbed his supple creamy tender hands together. Mr. Lotion achieved his dasterdly goals softly. He was passive aggressive and smelled like aloe vera.

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  • "ENOUGH!" I cried & woke from my nightmare, sweaty & terrified. "Same dream, hun? Mr. Lotion?" Marge asked sleepily. I lay back down. The scent of aloe vera still clung to

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  • Mr. Lotion. I always hated my name. Why was my family name a self-fulfilling prophesy?! WHY WAS I DOOMED TO WORL WITH LOTIONS?!!! I HATE LOTION!!!!!

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  • But I put the lotion on my skin anyway, as instructed. I wasn't really in a position to refuse the request. Wasting away in my hole, I considered what my life could have been.

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  • I coulda been in the movies. I coulda had pretty dresses and fanboys everywhere. Instead here I was, rubbing soothing cream on my eczema prone skin, enjoying the sensual rubbing on

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  • My hands at the expense of fame. What a bargain with the devil, I thought. My cat assured me I was okay. Thanks to her, I got up and went to the grocery store. The cat followed.

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  • The cat demanded expensive tuna, but it turned out I had some extra on my food stamps that month and could afford it. Why not treat yourself every once in a while?

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