Finished Folds (3481—3500)
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4milk, in which case your Ovaltine will taste like Death! Yes, you will all be beaten and made to drink expired milk products and wear your little sister's shoes and go to school on
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4He drooled in this sleep. He farted in his sleep. He lived, fought, and died in his sleep. His bulletproof vest and cologne could not protect him from narcolepsy. But he was a damn
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4might clue Mrs. Olsen onto their inauthenticity. But Mrs. Olsen had always been able to spot mountain grown patients a mile away by the angle of their teeth and was not fooled.
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5Each minefield was a mind game. Each mind game was a new tattoo on my psyche. The Old Ones could see this. But all I could see was their shoes in my face.
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3the edge of a cliff and watched him fall in silence, but turned before he hit the waves below. In the car on the way home, no-one spoke. We just listened to a Xavier Cugat CD.
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9Awning and lit up a stogy. It wasn't fair, them making us nicotine addicts have to stand out in the cold. Didn't they know we were sick people? Wasn't our skin grey enough? Weren't
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11and told him to leave because he was upsetting the nuns across the street, he covered his nudeness with his bowl and ran down the street. A nun followed him with her cell phone,
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4hook to see what I can catch. Then maybe I can fry it up and have something tasty to put into my mouth, to heck with Mackey and Rahodeb. They never bought me dinner. I'm thinking
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2the door still murmuring something about story rules while the armadillos were too busy devouring the persimmons to notice. Beverly was able to capture them easily and make them
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5nobody drank the milky Kool-Aid and eventually it dried up and became a pink powder that no-one recognized. Aunt Claudia discovered it and patted it onto her underarms. An explosio
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5a diaper factory, where no post-monkey would think to look for him. He hid under the tables and existed on scraps dropped by the aging workers until one day a post-monkey happened
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5Aunt Harriet's used shower cap. Yes, Chef Romanov's sandwiches were famous, but they were inedible. So the price went to Vince Vladderbury for his chewing gum and cashew butter
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4His mum was an ermine and often appeared as royal furs in British costume dramas. She was very adept at appearing dead and skinned, and could go for long periods without breathing.
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5Fruit. She accused me of peeling her with my mind, but all I wanted was my gosh darned coffee. Okay, I did want to put ice cream and chocolate syrup o her, but she drove me bananas
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3disembodied turkey head had moved into Bungalow 13 late last August. It was not only hideous, it had appalling taste in home furnishings. Mrs. Kaznitz, a Mary Kay consultant, went
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6would do for my lunch. But try as I might, the old people were too deaf to understand what I was requesting. They gave me disassembled poles of yellow, old potties of moldy fellows
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6proposed to me, but I wouldn't say yes until he had divorced his cheating wife and fired their plumber. He finished the pie, but refused to promise me anything. So I punched him in
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10Xklk, the Romulan cheif editor of "Romulan Bites" gourmet magazine. So the Romulans decided to evaporate every Starbucks on Earth and in the heavens and insist on Romulan coffee.
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4Only this time she was invisible, since she had vanished. All they saw was a large bowl of mango gelato approaching them. Startled, they took photos and insisted it was a UFO.
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6tank. She swatted the little bug and thought it was dead until it began to speak. "Look Lady, I am a suicidal bug and you've just ruined my life," it said, "Put your weight into it