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Sometimes I like to sing. My elephant likes

  • Sometimes I like to sing. My elephant likes it. Show tunes, mostly. But occasionally I belt out some Sinatra for her as well. Until that awful day when everything changed.

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  • There I was singing an old standard with Dimples {my elephant} trumpeting along with me, when my voice broke. Well Dimples snorted at me, and when she did her ears flew up and

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  • down. I licked my vanilla ice cream cone -- no toppings. My wife liked plain vanilla also, but the bitch wouldn't respect my love of animals so I had 'er put down.

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  • It was a mundane life like mine that drove the average man crazy. Ice cream without toppings was nothing more than another knife stabbing my psyche- now all I needed was a twist.

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  • So I twisted my titties. Spurned by the sharp pain, I jumped up, only to have the top half of my brain chopped off by my Edward Scissorhands novelty ceiling fan. Unfazed, I

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  • fell to the ground and lose consciousness. I quickly got onto my feet and saw a violet-brick road leading to an empyrean sunset. The grass was blue and the sky green. I felt my

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  • bump on my tongue. It felt all huge and sore. Every time I rubbed my tongue on my teeth, my eyes watered, and hurt--so good. I kept at it. But when I looked at it, it was a tiny

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  • little face. My face, glasses and all. At first I thought I must have been dreaming, but then it spoke in a wet little voice, "Keep at it!" I pulled my tongue back into my mouth

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  • then proceeded to swallow it entirely. I began choking furiously, and could feel my eyes bulging out of my head, saliva bubbling from the corners of my mouth. I gagged but my

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  • gallbladder just wouldn't stay down. I was vaguely aware of the floor coming up to support me as rays of moonlight danced the Charleston across my field of vision. I hate clowns.

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