Finished Folds (1—20)
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7would edge toward me with the insectoid gait of an Olympic fencer, yelling "en garde!, recreating a kind of Napoleonic D-Day. Ah, those were the days.
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4Herstory, to mark the beginning of Man Season. Citizens spent the preceding week picking out and sharpening blades from clam shells for the coming Man Hunt festivities.
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5in his pocket for the One Ring. He felt painfully self-conscious and yearned to disappear. But he dropped the ring. It fell onto the neck of a corn snake, which disappeared.
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6Ziploc bags of festering sludge that bore only a distant resemblance to the vegetables it once had been. And he would have gotten away with it, if it weren't for that meddling FDA!
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2on a silk chaise lounge, taking selfies for her finsta. She was an adorable seal. But she was ruthless in the hunt for justice. The inspectors took their oath on the state seal.
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7"Please," said Past. "You all end up copying me eventually. I'm everyone's future." Present looked at Future. "Me?" asked Future. "Who's on first?" asked Present.
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8I excused myself to use the bathroom, but alas! I found the windows too small for escape. Thus, my captors found me stuck in the frame, hanging inside from the waist down.
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5and salting it lightly. It would be a shame if we made all this effort to cook Baby Stew for our witch mother, only to leave her with the washing up.
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4"Venu! Venusaur!" Her soft words ravished me with guilt. I pretended to sneeze into my hands, not having time to wipe the slimy egg on my clothes. I had to replace the eggs somehow
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3as was writ in the ancient scrolls prophesying the downfall of the fearsome mage, Criss Angel. They arranged their duel for dusk, by Brockengespenst's request. Criss wore a lovely
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4From the back row, Lassie barked. "Yeah!" said Cujo. "Why doesn't Timmy climb out of the well himself!" By now, the whole crowd was yelping. The canine revolution had begun.
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1provided I then lick his tongue clean of lint. So was it that our next adventure was to Rome, where we pillaged archaeological cites in search of a silver tongue scraper. What fun!
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4sworn obligation never to consort with bitches." She clapped once, and six hermetically sealed chambers either side of the court opened. Feral bishops emerged, and scampered toward
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4was shaking. I had often lied about my banjo skills. I always found some excuse not to play, but now, side by side with Steve Martin, my lies would be exposed in front of everyone.
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4cracking barrels over light gossip. Thus, Majandu and Udnajam got their revenge by assassinating the characters of their nemeses through salacious whispered aspersions.
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4took out a hefty manual of Latin grammar and style, and the rapture began. Those who failed to conjugate their verbs to the militant nun fell through the earth into hell.
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10centuries later, having birthed an estimated 12% of the global population. This strange corpse-human heritage is the cause of the brutal and ongoing zombie wars on earth.
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2into his leg, and screamed in agony. "God dammit! How could I miss so badly!" The fall of Big Phil registered a Richter magnitude of 3.1 on a distant seismometer, so big was he.
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4tapioca pearls. Unfortunately, my becoming Cicada Man correlated with a greatly reduced life span. The setting sun provoked a circadian foreboding of my impending death.
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3Dansant, where I learned convoluted modern jazz routines alongside some of the finest cheeses in Paris. I didn't realise how much I'd learned about those cheese's cultures until I