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She could have chosen to wake up then, but

  • She could have chosen to wake up then, but she didn't. Would it have worked? Well. Maybe. She walked across the shifting ballroom, into the next chamber, which seemed to be

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  • lined with some kind of faux-velvet. Silky, but the texture seemed off. Still, it looked gorgeous. The paintings on the walls grabbed her eyes, even though she didn't stop

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  • The trance-like stake she had entered forced her consciousness so deep beneath a wave of simulated pleasure that she failed to realize the painting tearing out her eyeballs.

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  • after the painting tore out her eyeballs it came after me, i quickly grapped some acid and thre it on it, it dissovled and turned to dust but

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  • it seemed the magic lingered on the dust as well, and it quickly congealed itself inside of my lungs. I was suffocating, and I had to do something fast if I wanted to survive.

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  • I desperately rummaged in my enormous rhinestone encrusted gucci purse for my inhaler and pulled out the defibrillator, *damn*, epinephrine, designer dildo!? The tightness in my

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  • chest was so intense, in a desperate bid to clear my airway, I crammed the dildo down my throat. Good thing I've done this before. But I dropped my Gucci purse and out of it rolled

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  • , all the way out the door and down the street. It was as if the Gucci purse had come alive! It then found a job because, like all purses, it loved to be filled with money.

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  • An expensive bag sat on the counter, with the straps on the register. The bag opens and closes. "Can I take your order?" a leathery voice asks. "Uh, can I get a #4?" The straps

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  • wrapped around my neck, and the purse opened and closed rapidly. "Fatty! Why would you get the quadruple?!?!" It squeezed tighter and tighter until everything went black. For ever.

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