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A man in his mid-thirties sat in a booth

  • A man in his mid-thirties sat in a booth near the back of the place, cursing at his three year-old daughter as if she were a lieutenant in his army. She stared at him for a moment

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  • and lit a cigarette. 'You talking to me? You talking to ME?' she asked, her eyes cool and blue. But what really unnerved him was

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  • how she continuously stole famous lines from movies, and refused to communicate properly. She was unable to construct a single sentence without plagiarising the scripts of

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  • Spaceballs or Forrest Gump... It was always "Do you feel lucky, punk?", or " Two girls with green eyes, what can it mean?". She was outstanding at Scene It, but lousy at life.

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  • So she stayed at home all day and played Scene It by herself, pretending she had friends. Between games she thought bitterly about just how much life sucked.

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  • As she began another game of solo-SceneIt she realized that some words tasted bitter, while others sweet. She fell in love with the game--her only friend. As she was about to beat

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  • him he wiped his hands across the board and screamed, "This sucks, I'm going home." The ten year old got up, grabbed the roach in ashtray and went to the front door. This was not

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  • a safe place to leave his pet beetle Beauregard. It wasn't just the Blag Flag flying, or the threat of a Raid. It was also the Combat troops and the

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  • heartbreak of psoriasis. It seemingly worked better than the creams and salves made out of

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  • salvaged cremation remnants. People thought it'd work just because the words were similar. But our hero's still scalier than an irritated red trout, and not nearly as tasty.

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