Finished Folds (81—100)
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2"That's it, I've had enough of this fucking shit!" I said, rhyming in my head. I took out my MP5 submachine I bought in Hong Kong and shot the little bastard from my window.
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2Both men held hands... not because of love, but one can help the other up, for pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up. Ecclesiastes 4:10. Exit scene.
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3The highest of honours have endowed me today. A writer named Ambika, of whom had higher stature than me, decided to follow my path in the Quest of the FoldingStory. My joy was
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1turned out that the author of this story was a teenage girl, who had been writing yaoi fanfiction for years, and tried to maintain relevance by making everyone act OOC! This meant
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2(my nickname for Jerehakim), was one of them, and if he weren't a child, I would've porked him, but he's a Muslim. Still, no child should be disposed to work in such a factory.
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2instead of subs, why not dubs - I meant, brownies! I took to the kitchen and prepared with the most delicious recipe I could Google, and handed them out to the agents the next day.
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3Perhaps handsomely, like say, a vintage derby car? I knew you did. There was even a Confederate Flag plastered over it. You've clearly thought of everything. Fegelein-ing, I was.
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1So of course I had to warn you, in the most dramatic way. But it was not without the most passionate and fanart-worthy of kisses before we fled out to the parade square, as if like
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1However, the elections came quite hard. Trump was trumping, and the last line of defense for the Afro-Am was the sadsacks Clinton and Sanders. Those fools never stood a chance.
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1with poise and honorifics, all while eyeing the small chinchilla dog. That little bitch would become fur pelt by the time this visit was over.
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2But it had to be done. Jadie Blue stood by her computer, thinking to herself, "What makes a good story?". It was an important question integral in achieving her Quest, and it was
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3, which, as it turns out, the message flashed was in some kind of code. Operation Enigma was anointed by the priest to begin the decoding processing. So far, the letters are...
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1A new quest begins for her now. She packs her things, threw away everything having to do with that wretched machinery, and bought herself a one-way to Kampuchea. A new period of
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3kick him square in the groin, RoboCop and Bunny Rabbot busted down our front door. "Nobody move!" they both parroted in unison,
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2Worldwide media outlets soon lost interest in the story, and then turned back to the hardcore news of racist air-conditioners and what was to be learnt from #BirdsLivesMatter.
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2silver stickers. All of them stars. Or was it the other way around? Either way, he was being treated like a child. It irritated him, but he didn't mind because he felt special now.
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2Lo and behold, THE CAKE IS A LIE! She screams at how overused that meme was, and such was heard all over the world... after she commented to that on a Twitter page. Scoundrel.
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2but on the way there, he'll soon realize it's all a trap. If you see him, he's the floating corpse in the Pakistani drain, chopped into limbs and pieces. All in good taste.
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2has had it. He runs to his Mercedes Benz, and drove his car all the way to his chalet in the Alps, where the kerfuffle of yesterday was left to rot behind from the ghastliness.
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2candles were lit, a sack of O+, some garlic, and a backup crucifix was in place. Finally, her true purpose of reviving Vladchok the Impaler was at hand.