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"Beware, Zombie Bob is going to eat us all!"

  • "Beware, Zombie Bob is going to eat us all!" I looked up from my ice-cream cone to stare at the guy as he continued to run through the mall screaming, "Run, run!"

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  • I then looked to my side, and there was Zombie Bob about to munch on my fingers. "Yo, Bob, not cool man." Mall security approached on their Segways.

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  • ready to bludgeon some zombies. They were also shaking their batons all menacingly and stuff. All of a sudden Zombie Bob

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  • ran towards me, yelling "HE IS HERE, BRING OUT THE PEANUT BUTTER!" I was confused, naturally, as I had never heard of this so called 'peanut butter'. Zombie Bob came closer and clo

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  • sed the door. Suddenly I was surrounded by a bunch of peanuts wearing spectacles and top hats. The floor started to unfold into a pit with an open jar of peanut butter. Zombie Bob

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  • conducted an orchestra of bespectacled peanuts. They were all playing the French Horn, and the sound was absolutely repulsive. "Glory to the peanut butter!" one declared.

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  • Then, a choir of peanuts began singing a song of the tune "Joyful Joyful We Adore Thee" - they sang it to peanut butter. The peanut butter, though, was still not impressed.

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  • "Will nothing stir this peanut butter?" the choir of peanuts lamented (in five-part harmony). They watched, aghast, as the peanut butter lumbered to the box office to ask for its

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  • daily raise in pay, leaving the peanuts behind to deal with an annoyed audience who wanted to hear the singing Peanut Butter and his back up singers.

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  • The club owner accosted the peanuts’ manager. “Look, the audience is pissed. I’m gonna scratch your nuts.” Excited, the manager dropped trou. “No, I’m scratching the ACT, moron!”

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