The Return of Morag McDoone. She was a bitter,
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The Return of Morag McDoone. She was a bitter, drunk, Scotswoman, was Morag McDoone, who got more drunk the more bitters she imbibed. Her father Mickey rued the day he had filled
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Her coffee with salt. Disgusted, she started a campaign for the UN to make putting salt in coffee a war crime. A UN official then told her that
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putting salt in coffee couldn't be made illegal, because that would be discrimination against salt.
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Putting salt on slugs couldn’t be illegal, that’d be discriminating against salt. Putting poison in drinks couldn’t be made illegal, that would be discrimination against poison.
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wait. What was I thinking. Of course that's illegal. But who cares about the law? I sure didn't, as was proved by my sprinkling of arsenic in Miss Halvor's glass before the party.
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A bit of an old-fashioned way to do someone in but it was the only thing I had at the time. After all, I didn't spend hours googling 'gruesome ways to die' to stick to cliches. Per
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suading my partner-in-crime Stefan to assist in this murder wasn't going to be easy. Apparently, "But I really wanna!" was not sufficient cause in his mind to commit such a heinous
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act. I accused Stefan of making a false equivalency between a heinous act and murder for pleasure. "Really," I told him, "if you keep the focus on the pleasure the murder is just a
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great big rush to the nutsack.” Stefan pierced his lips and wrinkled his brow, “One must control one’s urges, if not I might be coerced into snapping your neck like a pretzel.”
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and so sang the last bird in the last tree of the last dawn where not one hankering for violence lingered, just that song, and then, the silence,
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- Started
- 2017-11-13 14:07:24
- Finished
- 2020-03-23 20:19:28
1 Comments
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Woab Mar 28 2020 @ 13:35
and all because of Morag McDoone.