Finished Folds (1141—1160)
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5upon poor Europa. "I'll wrap her in grape leaves and soak her in olive oil," gloated Queen Phaedra, "and sell her in little flat cans at Trader Joe's!" Phaedra's Minotaur Treats
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3(or so we thought), we ponced down the streets of New Orleans, sweating bullets in our lumber jackets. Whores tittered at us (literally) from windows, and old jazz man shook their
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4Twas then that the ghost of the bacon pig appeared above the frying pan in a golden cloud. "Them! They did it!" it screamed as it pointed a cloven hoof at us. A bolt of lightening
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3to the spectators below, "I am going tp pour these stupid fish on your heads!". Suddenly Laverne and Squiggy found themselves falling through space, their fins flapping like wings
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3But when the Tin Woodsman needed a colostomy, he had to have a small can soldered to his torso. Now, with two tin ears and a can on his tummy he could no longer find work. So he
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3waters run deep, and Atrophy the Petrified Dog was as still as they come, so to speak. Audiences throughout the midwest thrilled at his stillness. His progeny however, ran through
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3I was pushed out onto the set with nothing to cover my purple reptilian bikini zone. What's worse, there were kids on the set. Kids! Clearly, I was being framed. As the cameras
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6But being Canadian, the refugees didn't know from wine, and drank up all of the Hoop-de-Haw chablis in the state of Ohio, leaving a trail of moose antlers and broken hearts.
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4But we did have some mighty fine chili, topped with chives, sour cream and cheese on the way there. That night, however, we were visited by intestinal demons, the likes of which
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3the Queen of Wasps lifted the Spam Baby tenderly up in her insect appendages and carried him gently to her grey paper castle, which hung in a nearby tree. The Spam Baby gurgled hap
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1Well, we all had a good laugh about that, and then barbecued Steven the cow-hand Texas-style and had him for supper with some ice-cold beers. The sun was setting, the cows were
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3he knew that the postal delivery person was due any minute. So he lit all the shrubbery surrounding the mailbox on fire, but somehow forgot that the firehouse was across the street
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7other around a dim candle. They beckoned to me with their phony wings. One spoke, his voice ancient and brittle. "Join us, for we are the Brotherhood of Fake Carrion Eaters."
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4have to listen to one more fawning mortal begging me to connect them with Aphrodite for a favor, I will blow my ever-loving top. "Ask her out yourself, fool!" I will yell into the
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2A great roar of joy rose up from all the spectators. The Royal Naboo Guardsmen hoisted him up on their shoulders and carried him triumphantly through the streets. But a small child
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3And for that matter, neither did their genitalia. But he was the kind of guy that loved a lost cause, and it didn't help that he was rather a pushover. The Save the Lasagna League
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5Grandpa delivered the code to the Mexican Army by wiggling his eyebrows. The mole people had sharp hearing, but poor vision, and had no idea that Grandpa had divulged their whereab
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3another path, one that would lead him not unto another toilet store, but outward, away from such temptations. He wandered the wilderness for a few years, his only friend being a
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3, which he blamed on the widow's ghost. After the police left, he carried the haunted banjo to the cellar and buried it. That night, the dead widow returned, playing a trombone.
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3and wilting insult, but all he could think of was to refer to Derek as "Lamecone", which even he had to admit was pretty lame. Little did he know that Derek was actually a god from