Finished Folds (81—100)
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3made perfect sense. This was not her beautiful house. These were not her beautiful children. In fact, this wasn't even her. It was her evil twin, Glendilla. Now that she knew, she
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5It was that smile. You know the one. The smug smirk of "Gotcha". Thinking fast, I slapped the underside of the bag and sent dried banana chips flying. "This does not a-peel!"
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6"I have no potatoes," I lied. "But you can have the corn. Take it. Take it all!" I threw the ears of golden goodness into their faces and dashed out the door, making a beeline for
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1she could see him clanking along those stairs, up and down, over and around. Sometimes even through. This was no good, she had to stop thinking about it. So she took the large
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3in every sense of the word. Female dogs. If you know what I mean. She stood staring at the sad picture - 147 kittens arranged into the image of Andy Warhol. "Well, thanks, I guess.
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1immediately began ordering everyone around, as if by some divine right of kings. Suddenly, from behind the Black Knight, came a familiar voice. "Arthur? Is that you?" "Mom!?"
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5didn't breathe at all, and soon I was swimming in musky, dusky sweat. If only I hadn't eaten that onion and garlic sandwich for lunch. But it was too late now. I decided to use it
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6stubbornly the same as it was yesterday and the day before. Dr. Victor himself was frozen in place, as if suspended in time. Which he was, technically. But he wasn't about to let
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2Whitehouse Press Conference (during the Clinton era, of course). All the politicians were suitably impressed, but the President was not. "It's not a Big Mac," he said sadly.
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5was rob a bank and stick it to the man. Which man, I had no idea. Yet. And I couldn't waste any time thinking about it because of the whole dying thing. So I chose a random man and
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4which was fraught with perils, not the least of which was the need to get up and use the toilet. But he wrestled that hurdle into submission by wearing seven layers of adult diaper
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5Unfortunately at that very moment, the No-doz factory next door exploded, showering all those yawning mouths with caffeine pills. My plan was foiled and The world was saved. Rats.
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3"All right, son. Where'd you hide the body?" Sheriff Braxton demanded, his face screwed up into what he thought was a mask of fatherly concern but was more like Pennywise from "It"
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4He tried to pass the pink mess off as their new pet jellyfish, but the kids weren't buying it. For one thing, it was in a petrie dish. For another, it manifested a mouth and
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2"What is that?" She demanded in her thick German accent. "Not more of your hippie propaganda?" I gave her a dirty look. Yoh don't call David Bowie's music "hippie propaganda"
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4I couldn't help but comply, what with his incredible persuasiveness and all. So I hopped on the back of his chopper and we tore out of tbere like a bat out of hell, running down
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4Zombie Pope was a great distraction. It was time for Fr. O'Leery to make his getaway. He rounded the corner of the building at a full run and ran smack into
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4The crowd went wild, but not in a good way. They began pelting the Senator with rotten fruit (available at the door for only a small fee), sending him scurrying offstage where
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2right up under his armpits and making his eyes bulge a little. Let me tell you, bulgey eyes and hair dresses do not compliment one another in any way. The convention was well under
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3impish grin and a waving lock of hair... you know the one. The bears, eager to comply with The Host Formerly Known As Conan's wish, leapt from the safety of their enclosure and