Finished Folds (281—300)
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3Perhaps the Council was not High at all, and merely elected by popular vote rather than on the skills and competence of the applicants. Surely whoever wrote this was illiterate.
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3My friend Jason leaned over and punched me in the back until the gum dislodged and came flying from my mouth. I coughed and wiped the tears from my eyes. "Thanks, buddy," I said.
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4or Snickers. No, this was a more sinister sweet: the Liquorice. The Skittles and the Butterfingers quailed with fear as the black, sinewy rope approached them.
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4enticingly lemon-scented. She took a vial from her belt and filled it to the brim with the purple liquid. She stoppered it with a cork and sighed. "Some cold medicine," she said.
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8fees for us! We've made it, darling!" I hi-fived my wife and went to purchase an expensive caravan immediately. Screw the life savings, I don't want to leave an inheritance behind.
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4e was Mr. Fudge and I loved him with my whole heart, so much that it pushed out my love for Dad. "But he's just a guinea pig!" Dad yelled. "He's always here for me!" I snapped.
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4"So," I began, suddenly fumbling for words. "Uh, you like painting?" She glanced over at me, lips pursed, and nodded once. Okay, good start. "How about, um, knitting?" I continued.
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4The cats purred gleefully. The humans thought the cats' reign of terror had ended with the Egyptians. They didn't realise their subservience was truly about to begin.
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3the Third. He read over Terriertino's script and frowned. "Hey, pal," he said congenially, putting a hand on the dog's back. "Don't you think this script is a bit... well, sexist?"
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6slammed the back of my head into the wall. I was out like a light. I have no idea how much time passed while I was unconscious. When I woke, I found myself trussed up like a pig.
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4through the glass. It glittered and shone like a dewdrop in morning sunlight. I needed to have it. I peeked at the price tag and almost fainted - it cost more than my car!
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4is a mystery, even to me. Sure, I have nicknames, but none of them ever stick for very long. I suppose that's the thing about having nine lives - each life is a little different.
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3wn. "So, who's going first?" came the question. The group eyed each other nervously, waiting for a volunteer. Instead, they decided to kidnap Trump and launch him to North Korea.
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5Tears of delight streamed down his face. "B... b-baby unicorns," he whispered. He spoke the words with the reverence a worshipper says a prayer. One of the unicorn-lings peered up.
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4The Arcturians moaned and rubbed their sore bottoms pathetically. "Those damn Earthlings," they all agreed. The humans then celebrated their victory by spanking each other, gently.
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5the scene, grunting and drooling. "Hu... man..." he said. His voice was low and gravelly, like rocks grinding together. "Hu... man... write!" He turned and looked directly at you.
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6somewhere in the gloom ahead. I paused, my eyes raking through the darkness for the slightest hint of movement. Nothing. I held the dagger before me and crept towards the shack.
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4In Lyra's mind, it was storming. Thunder shook the earth and lightning strobed across the dark sky. Rain pounded down from the dark grey sky. Then reality struck as she gazed out
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3darted out into the garden. Grass that I'd once crushed underfoot now reared above my head, scattering dewdrops into my fur as I ran through it. I needed a mouse-friendly hideout.
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3much since we fled the initial attack. I couldn't tell what the doctor was thinking. Out of boredom, I scuffed my space-boot into the canyon walls, kicking up clouds of red dust.