Finished Folds (81—100)
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3As they rode home, Santa bitched to Mrs. Claus. “Shit, I’ve had enough. I’ve got better things to do than make toys for brats and stay fat!” Mrs. Claus was puzzled. “Like what?"
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2the darkness would target a chosen victim like my mother-in-law. That was when it abruptly changed course and dove onto my mother-in-law! Thought-controlled darkness! Next I wished
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1stared at the pirate captain, shaking his head and long neck. “Har, Mr. Giraffe,” yelled the captain, “What’er ye thinkin’?” Exposed, the giraffe spoke: “I be thinkin’ yer a DICK!"
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2The Oz Doorman posed in the winner’s circle naked from waist up, showing his winning green chest hair as the crowd chanted WHO! RANG! THAT! BELL? WHO! RANG! THAT! BELL? Just then,
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1ping-pong balls, a rip off of the old Captain Kangaroo gag. But no one in the audience was even alive when the Captain was on TV, so Mr. Moose comes on and takes a nice big dump in
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4him, refusing to pick and eat fleas from his hairy back and ass crack. Friendless, the monkey picked and ate fleas from his OWN back—but couldn’t reach his ass crack. He had to
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2said I could practice taxidermy on the dead parrot and refused to refund my money. Pissed, I watched the clerk retreat to the back of the pet store. I opened all the pet cages and
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3ked up recently by time-traveling his party to the stage of Ford’s Theatre just as John Wilkes Booth landed on the cake. The angry mob remembered and surrounded the party planner
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2Dr. Goodfeel pressed Time Set. The VCR shook violently, and the world ran backwards to the beginning of time, where a caveman rode a T-Rex while holding the VCR aloft triumphantly.
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2“I must brew coffee but can’t!” he yelled, glaring at the children. “You brats stole my percolator!” The children were mum. None liked his perked coffee, preferring drip instead.
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4belch followed by series of powerful noxious farts that chloroformed the driver out cold and sent the limousine careening into a telephone pole. The result? Six shattered Crystals.
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3a gigantic phallic asteroid to fall into Arizona, penetrating the vagina-like canyon, titillating that enormous slit in the earth, with lubrication provided by the Colorado River.
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4Mommy I’d be home but The Biter may kill me!” Putt-Putt got his pals the Krazy Kamikazes to dive into The Biter, killing it—and them too. Now friendless, Putt-Putt sadly flew away.
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4I avoid the commercial and sit, TV remote in hand, clicking channels to find something to watch as I fart into the sofa cushions. With no TV choices, farting becomes true pleasure.
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3Father always ate revolting crap, with bosom-sourced pig blood his latest passion. Before that it was bologna smeared with whipped cream. I really wish he’d go back to eating that!
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3shit storm (no pun intended). American entrepreneurship created commemorative toilet paper, laxatives, and corn cobs. A new national anthem rose: The Bathroom Hymn of the Republic!
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2afterwards. I put the bloody axe in the hall, ringed by the four I’d butchered. The sheriff, ever a dolt, got on his radio: “Bring an ambulance. There’s been a terrible car wreck."
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3& believing & deceiving &…”HEY! I know you!” said the guy who had just walked in unnoticed. “That cadence! Those rhymes! You’re the Reverend Jesse Jackson, aren’t you?"
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4communicate? Greg and Tai found a way to do so and not break vows of silence inside the convent. It did, however, evacuate the convent and burn it down: They sent up smoke signals.
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3logging in was unsafe. A key was found, and we warily entered. What we saw inside would scare the shit out of Poe: The admin sat on the floor slobbering and folding…origami cranes!