Agent Robinson was gasping for breath as

Agent Robinson was gasping for breath as he tried to stand, and I used the opportunity to do the sensible thing and shoot him. He crumpled on the floor, and I was free to proceed

towards the Treasury's red room. I was free until a doberman outside started parking. Thing was he was barking at his reflection in the window. But this brought the handler and

and he said that moralend spends wayyyyyy to much time on this website considering he has posted just about 1,200 posts. This makes me wonder about how this can be so entertaining

I started adding to folds & found it was addicting, but then it was already too late. I neglected housework, personal hygiene & social contacts. My moral end was nigh.

My wit became slim. Man, what was I going to do? FoldingStory was my life. Truly, da bomb! I knew I had to change on the double.Which way could I go?

My morals came to an end when I peeped in on a chazzercising session. "The way they fold and unfold those mats really takes me back," I thought as I spied on the glute paunch of

a guy that wore an overstretched Buddyboy T-shirt. Those T-shirts were the craze these days. The Fruit of the Loom hegemony had ended, a new age was dawning. I decided to pick ano

se. Any old nose would do. Mine was closest. Muriel turned to Frank and said "Coffee me or shoot me, your choice." I quipped "Geez, Muriel's chipper this morning isn't she?"

Startled, Frank pulled the trigger. BANG! A red dot was on her shirt. The coffee pot fell and it shattered as it hit the ground. She crumpled dead, no longer a sunspot to anyone.