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The bird speaks. Or does it? I had always

  • The bird speaks. Or does it? I had always questioned my mental health in the coming years but today my psychiatrist told me that everything was fine. I was starting to doubt her...

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  • because this bird is definitely speaking. It just said, "Well, I am home. I like it here on Sesame Street." I don't care what my child psychiatrist says, I'm not crazy.

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  • But Big Bird was crazy. He just imagined things like a green man who lived in the garbage can a red thing with an IQ of 7 and a talking carpet who doesn't believe in contractions.

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  • "Cookie cannot be contracted, only munched! Cookie!" Dr. Shepperton considered Big Bird in the autumn light. Commander Straker had texted him, but this was important. "Big Bird,

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  • tell us the truth. Who took the cookies from the cookie jar?" Big Bird gulped; Dr. Shepperton was losing patience. Suddenly a big, fuzzy, blue blur burst onto the scene. "Cookie?!"

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  • Returning to the scene of the crime was Cookie Monster's last mistake. Dr. Shepperton's testimony put him in the slammer for ten years, Grand Theft Cookie. He came out a hardened

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  • criminal. He had been claimed by the Custer gang and been recruited into the 8%ers. His whole body was now a weapon. The Cookie Monster really was a monster now and a mobster.

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  • Cookie Monster dressed like a goomba; a big yellow goomba. He insisted that yellow went well with his blue fur but since he went shaved that didn't make sense. He went to the Godfa

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  • Ther and complained about how the yellow dye made him itch like hell. He had no idea what to do Dr. Jdfjaasbjui was called and arrived in minutes by helicopter. Cookie Monster

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  • crumbled to the ground, sobbing. He'd seen the whole awful,horrible thing from start to finish! And to this day,Cookie Monster seeks to fill the endless void with...well, you know.

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