Finished Folds (3101—3120)
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3thusly with the blunt spines of our thesauruses. Their lisps were intact, our vocabularies at the brink of ludicrousness, but at the very least our point had come across.
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3the dog began to emit a similar green glow, his radioactive urine mutating the plants into horrible eldritch bonsais. He'd regret it, but that was the last time the dog listened.
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5belt, lighting up the planet's outer atmosphere with an explosion of gayly burning flame. It wasn't the happiest of places to visit, but it was the bounciest. The elephants were
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3devour all the crackers in the buffet until I was fit to burst with salty badness. I waddled through the YMCA hallways looking for a place to throw up,
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2Nigeria, home of the e-mail scammers that could use a good bombin'. G is for grotesque, what it looks like in your mouth. U is your ur mom, how the internets types. S is for
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2I was in the study mixing another cocktail. The crank calls never stopped, even years after my role as Swiper on the telenovela "Dora the Explorer". I wasn't much of a drinker,
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3too much to bear, so he decided he needed a good mental cleansing. Putting together a douche of bleach and acid, he proceeded to self-employ a brain enemy, and was in the midst of
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1several hundreds of cakes over the months. But how can one possibly mention Bulk without bringing to light his inseparable best friend, Skull? The duo was known in Angel Grove to
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1he had done his job to put the muffled-mouthed womanizing cretin in his place. He juggled his yarn breasts in his hands as he walked down the highway, disturbing motorists and
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3locusts chewing their way out from the holes of her head. She was never going to get her breast implants inserted there now, was she? The locusts were chewing, gnawing their way
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5unmentionable mucous upon it! Gross! And that night clean glass ruined! With germs! I wondered what object to hose down the disgusting hobo with. I picked up the nearest
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1met Dumplo the dog, a costumed mascot who sold really, really good furniture. Neverminding the children-eating zombies, I instead sought after a particularly comfortable
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2But what more can you expect from people so stupid that they still die in the ring even when following a stupid script? And their audience isn't particularly bright, either.
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0dug his claws into the flesh as hard as he could, scratching along the skin of the meaty flesh until it bled. The attacker cried out in pain, releasing his victim, but now angrier
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2away before the rebuttal could reach my ears. What I had said wasn't saying much about some cheap, needled whores in a dingy mafia-owned establishment. What a pisser this job was.
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1Too bad what I couldn't see was a therapist right about now. Her USB-port nipples suddenly lashed cables out at me, strangling around my neck. I choked for breath, but it was too
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3buffers. Yes, it was Hollywood to blame. Thankfully, Halloween came in and kicked Hollywood's cultist butt back to last century, and our floating protagonist found a gravity well
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2out why he was hallucinating rainforest animals. Not just mammals, snakes and those creepy carnivorous plants as well. But even Richard Gere didn't know who he himself was, so he
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5time pass by playing Star Fox on my handheld. It was really time-consuming, replaying stages for achievements, but the only other escape was FoldingStory in between bouts. Back to
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7everyone feel bloated with a tummy ache. We had no choice but to acquiesce to Mr. X's demands. Of course, X wasn't a pseudonym, it was really spelt Ecks. But his demands were as