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"Don't drink and fold! DON'T DRINK AND FOLD!"

  • "Don't drink and fold! DON'T DRINK AND FOLD!" [CRASH!] [@ Folder's Anonymous] "How many here are also alcoholics?" [unanimous hands] "That's what I figured. Now let's introduce
  • a little mescaline to this folding party. Now let's
  • sit upon the sand and tell silly tales of the Cactus Kings." The Unmagical Realist stood up. "Stop! I've had my fill of your color-shifting sombreros and geometries of the skies! M
  • y head is hurting so much!!!" they said, they had always been jealous of my magic.
  • Jealous. Jealous little maggots. Of course they were /jealous/. I was better. I was /the best/. And Envy was a sin. But then again, so was Pride.
  • I will need to feign humility. I'll do it to benefit the maggots. Yeah, that's it. Their jealousy of me is fueled by admiration, I know. As their role model, they can look up to me
  • and squirm. That's all they do...but they don't do it as well as I do. Don't get me wrong. I taught them everything they know. That's right. Nobody squirms like me.
  • Lt. Columbo was nice, telling me all about his wife's gallstones. He almost left & suddenly remembered to ask why my prints were at the crime scene. I've been squirming ever since.
  • Gallstones...those bastards are painful. Perhaps I should have told Lt. Columbo that his wife needs to lose a couple hundred pounds, but...my prints were at the crime scene becaus
  • I had attempted to make Mrs. Columbo a smoothie. I thought a little bananna and mango concoction would calm her. It was my fingerprints on the blender!

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