The full moon rose like the anger in my soul.
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The full moon rose like the anger in my soul. Tonight was the night. I checked my bag. Everything was there: a rope, spray paint, a pig heart and the voodoo doll. My neighbor was
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gonna get what's coming to him THIS Halloween! Ever since he "trimmed" my bushes last year, I'd plotted. I hung the voodoo doll up by its neck & strung the pig heart over his garag
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e. Through this actions the whole new history shall arise. It has to. - why? - I played the situation out with a ragdoll, so it has to. - how did that make you feel?
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Do you want the honest answer or the one off the top of my head? Top of my head - fuzzy. Honest - nothing. I feel nothing. Nothing at all. Never have and never will. The ragdoll
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collection in my granny's curio cabinet has more feeling than me at the moment. Want to liven things up? Go ahead and try, but don't knock any dolls off the top shelf.
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Each doll is handcrafted from natural materials, making them beautiful to behold, soft and warm, and fun to hug. Each doll also contains a rotten strip of Granny's flesh.
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"Gee whiz, technology these days!" Olga chortled, tossing a Satanic Sally doll into her cart. That night, the doll awoke. Sally began her reign of terror by slaughtering
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3 mice, Droogles the family dog, and her arch nemesis Chucky. Satanic Sally then set her sights on an even bigger challenge: Floogles the family cat. Being a doll, Sally was
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less than a foot high a made of cheap brittle plastic, which posed a few difficulties. Nevertheless, Satanic Sally was determined to make Floogles the cat pay for every time he had
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mocked her with grins from shadowed alcoves. She stuffed the damned creature in a box and went down the street to hand it over to a man known as Erwin Schrödinger.
4
- Started
- 2013-10-23 23:31:36
- Finished
- 2015-01-26 10:50:44
2 Comments
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zxvasdf Jan 26 2015 @ 11:12
Talking about a whole history arising from seemingly inconsequential actions... with quantum entanglement, it's quite possible motionless ascetics walled up in their caves influence far off events (spookily, of course) with their muscle control—the fixed gear. The buxom babe on the dance floor, moving one way while some part of her moves the other way, hair a halo in the whirling fairy lights—the rack and pinion. The madman in his padded cage at the local asylum wearing a groove in the soft floor as he goes forward three steps, one step to the side, skull rotating precisely 67 degrees, a slow half-blink near the rotation's conclusion, to take five steps backwards while flexing the left extensor digitorum simultaneously with the tip of the tongue touching the right maxillary third molar at the final step to slide a foot right to begin the process anew—the governor gear. The word junkie compulsively beating useless near-nonsensical metaphysical tangents of grandeur into the comments section of finished Folding Story folds—the hypoid gear!
SlimWhitman Jan 26 2015 @ 17:32
definitely the hypoid gear... http://foldingstory.com/x10ru/