"A little shorter on the left. Maybe make

  • "A little shorter on the left. Maybe make it more even. Yeah, like that. Yes, I like that." Pause. "Now step away from
  • the clippers and go get some of that Witch Hazel I like so much." The barber put down his Wahl Professional and walked
  • into the wall. He may have been smart, but he wasn't that bright, as the door three feet to his left indicated. The barber cleared his throat, excused himself and
  • put his privates back into the seclusion of his boxer briefs. Wiping his hands on the long hair of a hippie waiting for a trim, he said, "Pass me that
  • frisbee, will you?" And he started sprinting ahead, then made a sharp turn and looked back. The hippy decided that it would be a good idea to cover him, so he
  • stiff-armed the sleepy stoner who he had been following and took off in chase. This was some weird game of Ultimate they were engaged in, and as he closed in on disk and quarry,
  • The two-legged quarry was sloppy with fear and stumbled while fleeing. It was almost laughable how easy this kill was going to be. The scent of fear was in the air, a sweet, sweet
  • combination of McRib sauce and stale asparagus urine. Deliciously revolting, in a way that enjoying swallowing your own vomit never was. When she tripped on her own bra,
  • she smacked her face on a Chalupa. It left an impression of Lou Ferrigno in the tortilla. Of course I was the only one with a pair that saw it. So I pocketed it, they'll never
  • know... unless they happen to see my ebay listing on the internet. I bet it could sell for at least a couple hundred just like the Abe Lincoln french fry and virgin Mary McNugget.


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