Finished Folds (321—340)
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4"Dammit," he thought as he put another quarter into his television. The picture flared up again. " Clarice, have the lambs stopped scream..." and then went dark again. "DAMMIT!"
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1I had to take control of the hive mind. The workers sensed a change and we/I built a wall around my physical body protecting it from the interlopers. The egoists were not happy.
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1last word on the whole affair was finished. As I smoked my pipe, my jack russell led me past mounds of dirty snow. A sedan flashed its brights and pulled up beside me. "We need you
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4yelled for the bailiff. "Seltzer that man!" Jay was sprayed and hauled back to the witness stand. Montague held a whipped cream pie before him. "Exhibit B. Look familiar buffoon?"
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4Deep in the tundra, an ice elemental was legend among the inuits. It had a magic hat, a maize pipe, and eyes of cindered flame. It was up to me to try to photograph this Frosty.
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4Chaz put down his evening paper. What was that low rumble? Slipping on his loafers, he shuffled to the front door. A bulldozer charged through the darkness. "Slim?"
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9Greetings Estonian teacher, as part of your ITC training, I welcome you to FoldingStory 101. We look forward to you becoming a future leader in our world domination plan
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7deciding which little tikes were on the naughty or nice list. Darth Santa gazed on the blaster cinder of Alderaan. "Well, that solves THAT problem." The Stormtrooper elves
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2Lacking sense of smell, my servo-chef 3000 would get creative with breakfast. "MUSTARD PRUNE PANCAKES WITH ROOT BEER INFUSED BACON ENJOY!"
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4I had to infiltrate their ranks. Donning my feather/scale killer reptilian penguin hide, I waddle casually to the bonfire. The half-breeds look at me with suspicious eyes. "Squak?"
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4peck at my ankles. "Not helping!" I gritted as I took another swing at the leviathan squid with my cleaver. The penguins hid behind me. What I do for sushi...
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2I pushed the stop button on my walk-man. Why did she put Styx on my mix-tape? Didn't she know I was into Jethro Tull? I rubbed my beard and pondered her music tastes.
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3I wrapped my eyes with a kerchief and fumbled with my sleeping bag. If the blizzard stopped soon, I could radio base camp. A howl was on the wind, and something else.
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3cut spaghetti, a noodle that can't make up its mind. Are we too lazy that we can't twirl it with a fork? We couldn't handle the elbow macaroni? What purpose does it have on God's
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5I, "I would like to give a piece of my mind." After a pause I heard a voice. "4Brains, grey matters, what problem?" "The frontal lobe was jostled shipment, I can't think straight."
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6Ize de spize an uppin windose. Den uppsie daissee oust I go! Imz a flingin in der free fall but catchim clothez line. Da Florida boyz makin' wit the shooters. Ka-pee! Ka-Pee!
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7hands? The music stopped and I threw the hot potato at a picture of a donkey. Someone yelled "Grey Duck!" and grabbed the last chair. The rest hid in a closet. This party game was
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5broadcast emergency instructions. If you are reading this, help is on the way. Shut the shades, prop the door knob with a chair, and listen for the honk of the bus to Utopia.
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6understanding the confounded mind of a marketer. The doctor wrote down on pa. "Patient B sees box as cardboard cushion." The doc held up a pen. "What's this?" "An analog scripter."
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6I threw the email into my spam file. Then, I took my computer and dropped it in the bin. I took the bin and tossed it in the dumpster. Then I took the dumpster and shoved into the