Finished Folds (1—3)
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5Already he could hear the ferocious screams of his boss as he sweated away. Bead upon bead of sweat landed on the burgers, but he didn't care; he needed the money, and fast.
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4and pitch. To those blissfully unaware, it sounded like a robot's rather-basic attempt at music, but somebody with a careful eye would be sure to notice the odd side effects of it.
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4she was dead. No . . . it was dead. Whatever it had been. I slid all over the place like an inchworm, trying my best to look for those missing chips. I had no luck. They were gone.