Finished Folds (301—320)
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2It was then I first saw Vanilla town in all its wonder. As we waltzed as one through Vanilla Park, meeting Vanilla Residents along the way, we took them home to make Vanilla Love.
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4And at once, it ate and vomited itself until it was nothing more than a shaggy bill atop a pile of chicken feces. “Try to beat that, Bobby Flay!” Francois cried above the applause.
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0Shocking as it may seem, I was abducted by aliens and escorted to their planet and put under observation. The Vesuvian—which is what they call themselves—are naturally voluptuous.
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1Listen up! The sarge says 95 percent of us are not coming back. So, to those of you who make it. Kill as many of those zombie bastards as you can! To the rest of you, sayonara.
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4thick, musclebound cabana boys unless they had a master’s degree in Jack of All Trades: Fence builder, carpenter, plumber, gardener, master chef, chauffeur, masseur, and lover.
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6After you read the Good Book, everything else is bad. And I have graduated from the School of Hard Knocks, but there ain’t nothing do prepare you better for life than the Good Book
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3Or, at least, that’s the way I would explain it; it could have been anything: the fermented entrails of a rat, ejaculate from a worm orgy, but I preferred calling it sticky gunk.
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15My name is Mudd, with two Ds, the second D is silent; in theory, if only one of them is silent and the other one isn’t, it doesn’t matter which of the Ds is silent and which isn’t.
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11I did a monstrous number of respectable things for a lot of bad people—or maybe I did a substantial number of terrible things for a lot of good people. I hate people. I love me.
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3; and he did, and that was his demise. The male of the genera didn’t perspire or cry; those who did were outsiders and were either sent off to concentration camps or put to death.
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4can’t spend eternity as a phantom; I won’t! Some see-through troll twirling about, flinging spine chills down the backs of young people for a lark. Or could I? Yes… I think I will.
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4Sure. Snicker all you want… but this was no laughing matter to Otto; he took fame seriously. He was cured of the circus ring shitting. The whole event is on record; look it up!
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6on you, my dear Archibald; but I refuse to bow down—like all the other mindless munchkins—and kiss the ring of the biggest pile of doo-doo this side of Bowlegs, Oklahoma.
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7me squarely on the side of my head, at the temple, and the evil life-forces from the Necronomicon Ex-Mortis, which lay mutely for 4 decades inside my mind, woke … stalking souls
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5“Book me? Listen, Pal…I’m a walking, talking lump of rotting meat. I only fear helicopter blades, and any recruiter with a high-powered rifle. So, STFU! Before I bite a chunk out
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4But, what a fool with a whistle believes: I mimed my way to teaching the physical science of Nok-Hockey to a clan of Asian acrobats. Then I broke my vow of silence and saved her
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3The removal business. I started small, inviting my bitch boss for lunch, shocking her. She thought I didn’t like her. 2 Ativan and a glass of wine later, I fed her to the plants.
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5Authentic Russian people are ferociously acrobatic and habitually conformist; they tend to look at Americans as obese, opulent, leftist assholes…which is not far from the truth.
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4No, I’m never going out without the fig leaf. I won’t spend another second outside of the danger zone without protection. It’s who I am. Please understand my underwhelming modesty.
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10Fat Boy Skinny and I met at the Sunset Grill…back when the Imperial Highway was still a dream…where a man with a washboard, spoon and harmonica could tell tales from times gone by.