Finished Folds (201—220)
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6Line 3 gave me my writing orders, but could I trust lines 1 and 2? Would my line only complicate matters, causing derision in lines 5-10? It was all very meta.
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3"Sometimes, it fizzes up my nose and I sneeze. AAA-CHOO!" Wiping the spittle off her face, she was regretting her date.
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5Fortunately, the bubbles prevented any indecency. Unfortunately... "Frita daughter! Hot tubs sure are invigorating! Hans! Beth! Come join us! Canasta anyone?"
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4Even though his hands were tied, we weren't barbarians. I offered him the constructive art of nose painting. Later, we sold his painting at a prison charity event.
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5I tried to impress Myrtle with my prowess. The frozen butterball slid down the alley almost reaching the pins before slipping into the gutter. Turkey bowling is a fickle game.
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2creating a cute animal meme. Here, at Fauna Linguistics, we spend hours getting a cat to 'no more' or a dog to say 'Amsterdam is sunny in the Springtime.' Our coaches rely on
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2My wife wasn't pleased with the arrangement. "There is cat hair in the butter dish and Fido just licked the frosting off my toaster strudel." "They're family. Why not the table?"
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4I had a can of beer with my favorite football team's name on it. Life can't get better than this.
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2"Mrs. Zggfghgffsky," said Dr. Gdujjjvgjkpy biting a cookie, "my colleagues, Dr. Chyfdshjgjjop and Dr. Sjbfhddpzxy, and I feel your grandson...." Just then, Jim Bob walked in
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3FoldingStory writer, much to his surprise. "Wait! the story had dragons and tandems and everything! you can't take me away now!' "TOUGH" said Death.
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5Peter Rabbit had run a smear campaign. "MacGregor, Menace to Bunnies Everywhere!" "Where's My Jacket? Ask MacGregor!" An angry thumping of many paws was heard at the door.
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5I checked my rebreather as water sloshed into the torperdo tube. 4...3...2...1! Go! Blast off! Go? I had counted to 20 but still no boom. I heard a tap on the metal. "Sir?"
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3into a habit of casting out demons every morning. Brush teeth, drink coffeee, cast out the Motherless Goat of the Abyssal Sea. The devil plague was almost routine.
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4to see. "Aarrgh! Your beauty has blinded me!" I stumbled into the hotel hallway tripping over the room service tray. "BASTARD! WHERE'S MY MONEY!" she yelled.
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7Folding clothes, she continued to gaze at her child in the playpen. The baby was up to something, but she couldn't put her finger on it. His eyes sparkled. The toys shifted.
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4gutteral commands. "MUR BEF!" spewed forth. I hastly signaled chef with a clap of my hands. "But of course, Monsieur, would you care for an apéritif?" "YAH, MOR MEAT!"
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7the bar. "CAN"T HEAR! TEQUILA!" J. Blair spun around and pretended to use castinets. That's when the worm took over. "LEFT LEG... FORWARD!" J. Blair stumbled forward. "BARTENDER!"
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3I dropped my chicken leg and rushed to the calendar. It was October! and Friday! The police would be after my gourmand shenanigans. Where to hide? A knock! "TRICK OR TREAT!"
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3Decided to open a franchise of flux art breakfast cafes. The Yoko Ono Grand Slam was two eggs over easy on top of a piece of cardboard which read "bacon."
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6and with my immortaity injections, by the time I was 130, I was just blubber rolling around in a jar. Thank goodness for my Waldo appendages, I could change the remote.