Finished Folds (461—480)
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3Roland, chef de partie of the Chacune et chacun Fantaisie restaurant, had an appetite for sabotage. He'd slip osmium cubes in tourtes so the serveurs would drop unbalanced trays on
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3-ade until "Purple Haze" transmuted into a J-Pop hit. Santa was with the times; he knew about X-Box and Hit Clips. His Tamagotchi died as he sifted through more childish demands.
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6"I'm afraid there's no room on your ship for the nature dome or yoga studio modules, Cap'n." The last of the crew's morale went up in smoke with that bombshell. Cap'n Ramírez vowed
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2Why answer questions when questioning answers is much more fun? Questions dissipated my self throughout the Flux Sector; distinctions were retrofied. If only the last internet page
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5"Ms. Stevens, I have a question." Ms. Stevens scanned her lesson plan for any mention of questions. Nothing. The chaos was palpable, like improv class all over again. Panic set in.
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4if this would be the final take of the cigarillo ad. He was a real cowboy with real cows to poke. "Cut," said the director. "Dale, the CGI cigarillo nebula is BEHIND you. Learn how
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2he could use his invisibility to hide in the boys' locker room and scare them with a hearty "boo." Morton's hand patted through his invisible back. "Girls spook easily. Boys are
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3The snakes' acid spit dissolved my broom's bristles, so flying away went out the window. As I backed against the door, the handle turned into a snake. Mondays, am I right? Venomous
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2they took a number slip, which contained a divergent geometric series. "Our pumpkin pie will have time to cool now," Peter told his wife. Their pie was yanked from the sill by a
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6they squeezed into the cleric's hut. "It has been foretold that dihydrogen monoxide would fall, and greens would shoot up from the ground," he said. "We must forsake our sand diets
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4"Better yet, I'm calling ADT tonight and having an ad-blocking forcefield installed. Consider your boxes of cookies X-ed out, little girl." Heh, we scouts have technology too. My
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3My shovel's blade and handle had separated, and now I had to bury Devin by hand. "Klowd, quit meowin', the police'll hear." Some of us have none of the luck. Killing should be easy
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11self. I learned that the secret slime word that activated his third nipple/slime faucet was "um", so I'd um until he'd take his slime-drenched shirt off. "So, um, deary, how was
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7Mike Tyson was known to look down on cruelty to non-human animals. He was my hero, so I lied. "I didn't punch rabbits, I punched my wife. I swear." "You aight," he said, smiling.
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5they're gonna put a foot-tall speed bump on the freeway, why not paint it yellow or something? Or at least a sign, JEEZUS. My car is totaled. "At least you're slow," said Architect
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4newspaper not being delivered had Arnold stewing. He had the last 6,000 issues in neat, banded stacks. "Mailman Paul's 5 minutes late. I bet he's abandoned me, like Carol. Why does
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6"First, you're gonna want to macerate your berries thusly. Feel how soft they're getting? Now you can masticate them soo easily. Mmm." A mass debate in Bobby Flay's studio audience
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9"My Gogurt - it's rotting." "Sir, an Aberdare mole shrew is giving birth inside." That endangered mole shrew was the national animal of the police state. The SWAT team beat him for
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4as an acidic skin bubble floated over to their art history degrees and corroded them into nonexistence. "NOW we'll never find work. How will we afford heartbreak potions?" Selling
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13"I said no, no, no!" said 49erFaithful now that LucieLucie had opened his Pandora's Box of sas. "Get a room, you two," said PurpleProf, trying to grade papers at the FS AA meeting.