Finished Folds (41—60)
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3Nineteen packs of gum had failed to improve his breath. He was sparkling like a motherfucker, but his entrails were still rotting inside him and until they dried out, vampirism
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3The pelican balanced on the end of the dock where she'd first kissed Richard. He was a humble, quiet man, but was the best, most honorable she'd ever murdered. His zombie corpse
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0All seven chef's knives, the eight steak knives and the culinary sheers jutted from his ragged flesh. The sheers had found their place on either side of the bridge of his nose and
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0The chicken corpse lay on the table hours after the knives had dismembered it. The bones from its legs had been stripped of flesh, but rattled toward it. It was chicken apocalypse
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8Her dress fell to the floor and I stood there for a moment admiring its beauty. Silk folds with lace trim. It evoked Valentino at his prime. "Ahem!" she coughed at her nakedness
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1He'd really meant trauma, not drama. I was guessing it was the seventh blow to his dome that was taking a little of the grammar-king out of him. "It's TRAUMA Dip-shit!" I signed.
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0He laughed and tapped the end of my junk. I didn't realize he'd still had his cigarette in that hand until I woke up in the ER. Apparently, some cherries should remain untouched.
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2I started slow, not taking her out except once a month and then going to the same museum over and over. Boring her to death, phase one, was complete. For phase two, I planned to
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3She dipped out of her cheap motel room intentionally smelling like Bacardi and vulnerability. When her handsome agent opened the door, she fell into his arms and fumbled for his
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2a little better than that. I wasn't just going to be some extra that died off in his first appearance, so I signed up to play a troubled, likable youth on a show called Law & Order
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0night they all showed up at Jokerz, a local strip club, to try their pale cottage cheese out on the poles. "Real Housewives of Muncie: Club Style" made Snooki's face punch look
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5think holy water is actually supposed to do. This sort of thing doesn't have anything to do with religion. It's just me, some red contacts, and glue on fangs. Hunting in churches
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0freshmen. "I keep getting older, but they just stay the same age" I always say. Of course, before it was just ten years of college, now it's just true in prison. The ladies aren't
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6the big man stroked him behind the ears & fed him apple slices while he whistled a song about scandalous dresses and devilish eyes; but then came the chorus: Let me see that thong!
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1gets me next to a prisoner named Bubba Jethro whose favorite activity was forcing his initials on those silly enough to fall asleep with their mouths open. Pretzels were just that
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2Mr Johns was watching the neighborhood. He'd sneak a peak of fellow watchers in their black and taupe bondage gear, and blame a prowler when he was caught. He admired their stylish
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1spent a half hour easing the itch on what he thought was a door handle, but turned out to be the king's scepter. The king was not amused. The life of a blind man with hemorrhoids
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1supply cabinet?" she asked, breathing hard as she pulled the keys from the dead bellhop's pocket. He'd been snooty,so she wasn't sad to see him die. Vest in hand, she saved Hawking
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0"Fucking Uper's!" she said, whipping her knife around and spraying the excess blood into Paco Uper's eye. Paco's natural dexterity prevented total blindness,but now he was infected
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1mortuary. Her home embalming kit would have to wait. Such inventions were "her time only" and she was supposed to be on the clock and at the slab fifteen minutes before. Corpses