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"Septentrionibussinistrisconvocotedaimon!"

  • "Septentrionibussinistrisconvocotedaimon!" she wheezed out in one long breath and waved her wand menacingly at the shambling horde of
  • mumbletipies that threatened her Canasta party in the late summer evening. Ron hesitated a moment, then said "Septentrionibussinistrisconvocotedaiyahmon!" His days were already num
  • b because a giant cloud eagle with heroin beak had pierced his heart and floated away. Ron felt 30 feet wide and that his eyes were riding down giant slides. This was the perfect t
  • Hing to write about as a possible play. He could just imagine it as the story gets folded.
  • The now folded play rather than story developed a plot twist where the young couple getting married were capture by rogue monologuing fashionista pirates with nail guns who
  • liked to be concise. The twist would still be a twist even though you already knew there was a twist. You'd say, "I see how you twisted that on me". Lets sit back now & let the sto
  • ve finish warming up. You couldn't do much with out a nice hot cup of tea, especially if it required the kind of brain capacity involved in elaborate plots. The kettle whistled
  • like a soprano singer's vocal warm-ups. I took out my favourite mug and carefully measured out two teaspoons of tea leaves. The spicy aroma filled my nostrils as the kettle came to
  • -ward me with murder in it's eyes. "Every day you sit me on the fire until I boil," the kettle hissed, "Well now we're going to see how you like it!" But before the kettle could
  • make good on its threat,Aunt Valetta (whistling merrily) picked the kettle up & tossed it in the trash with a thunk. A lovely very pleasant Le Creuset settled into place. "Hallo!"

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