Finished Folds (1—6)
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12I snatched the kryptonite from the quickly receding tide and pocketed it, vowing to resolve this matter with the CEO of Ikea: my own twin brother.
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6who scattered their victims' remains in no pattern whatsoever, stacking arms and legs randomly or splattering body parts arbitrarily. Soon, Warden Hedgehog grew tired of squabbling
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2I guess not."
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4Waldo all day until my brains turn to mush, but now where was I? Oh yes, when ol' Sheriff Willie, bless his poor epileptic soul, got on his black denim jeans, I knew it was time to
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3month to move out of Harvey's house; she, being a hoarder, had an awful lot of useless sentimental possessions, mainly made up of 19th century spittoons. What she didn't know was
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5"We put the 'grrr' in 'grease'!" So I walked in and asked the manager if they were accepting applications for a new fry chef. The manager, a stubby man named Darek with an A, said