Finished Folds (541—560)
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6inquired the waitress, subtly tilting the silver platter she carried so I could see squirrels in various postures, their flattened pelts bearing tread marks. "Got a Michelin?" I
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4in the conga line too, shuffling forward gracelessly, loosing patties whose pungent aroma added to the festive aura. Sam wasn't too drunk to make a mental note to scrape his shoes
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2vidly remembered the thrilling opener, when Mom carved up their honoured guest (Galvoni from New Jersey) along with the roast, & calmly dished out the pasta. "You can't tell anyone
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4even baby demons grow up, & it was time to enrol the pair at Floot's Preparatory. To get in, though, they would need to impress the headmaster, Mr. Spankton. "Polish your horns!" I
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4: he hated vaccines. So when Dr. Grabby turned him over & removed his diaper for an MMR shot, Clark Kent 2 let loose a HyperFart. The poor MD clutched his throat & turned all blue,
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5nuclear powered submarine piloted by a time-travelling Spock could do it in much less. However, the convicts aboard the more conventional craft were usually in no hurry anyways, &
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6culminated in this reporter dodging throwing stars and stray nunchuck swings. "E-excuse me, big-scary-cloaked and-hooded-dude-san, can I get a quote for my pap...ungh!" When I woke
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4hurled herself into the sea after it, vacating the wooden panel that held her aloft. A panting Jack mounted it, gratefully avoiding hypothermia. Too bad about Rose, but, honestly,
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5Charlie Chan. It must have dawned on someone that the only thing lacking was a juicy murder, because suddenly one of the revellers, dressed as Trump, screamed and clutched his/her
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4In between sobs, she poured out her tragic story; how everyone in school liked her & wanted to be with her, so she had no time for herself. "Why can't I be a reject like YOU?" she
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3n aboriginal witch doctor. My bro Jarli claims that had Pops been sober when doing his sacred fire rituals to cure flatfoot, his patients would be track stars- not paraplegics. I
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7"Michael is a good baby, aren't you?" Mrs. Myers cooed at her child. The infant's grin broadened- & that's when she spotted the hedge shears. In a flash, the playpen wiring was cut
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7wigwams in the "American Frontier" section. Entire tribes had been burned alive. But what of the volumes? Did any of the library's books survive the rampage? I passed slaughtered
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6he placed his dad in old age home. Soon everyone down to the personal valet provided by the posh residence had guilt feelings. After denying him a 4th filet mignon, Chef hung himse
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2had been tossed on top as an afterthought, since anchovies alone might not bring out the full flavor of the cheese. So there was lots of pizza for all, including Det. Manatee, who
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4his widow sued Dr. Wikid. But the wily savant was prepared, & conducted a seance using the judge & jury. The deceased's voice swore he had really died of autoerotic asphyxiation.
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3clandestine surgery practice. To this day Lord Voldemort bears me a grudge because of the face job I gave him in his apprentice days during a blackout. Is it really that bad?
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2Quixote, charging at yet another horde of those pests. It was dawning on him that paparazzi were more eternal than even windmills."Sólo hacerse la miel y las moscas que se chupan!"
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5bed of ol' Judge Wilks- he's half blind." Next day, the magistrate groped for his slippers but found Mr. Ed's muzzle instead. "Thelma, dear wife, is it you!? Then who did we bury?"
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3in, or Emmett Brown. But I now realize it isn't personal." The Mad Scientist paused to calibrate his doomsday device. "They're simply intimidated by my sanity!" He pressed the red