Finished Folds (1—20)
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6until we were forced to dial in the Dylans. We dined in, Dylan, myself, and the other damned dying Dylan until a diameter of diamond emerged from dying Dylan's dynasty dumpster. We
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3idea, drug, or sick dance move. That was, of course, until gestures themselves became uncool. The hipsters crumbled, and with them, the world.
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3finally take his place in the center ring. He stepped slowly down the front steps of the facility and spoke to the crowd. "The National Anthem," said the Circus Master, "is almost
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10gerrymandering or navy intelligence. Alas, when the time came - he fell short. But such was the life of the last great folder.
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7He sighed a heavy sigh. He drank a heavy drink. And there, in his outdated browser window, he composed his first email since Y2K. "Dearest sirs," it began, "The songbird shall not
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5nx's left paw. The custodians had already started scraping her remains from the concrete. "Egypt sure is lovely this time of year," I said. The custodians scoffed and scraped. Of
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9Two-bit Tommy had never seen such a thrilling display of aerial brilliance. The yellow biplane flipped suddenly upside down, as the man on the wing finished the last of 30 pushups.
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7go stick and damn near hopped out of his depression. I'd never seen a man change so quickly in front of my own eyes. He swigged the last half of Pepto Bismol and smiled. "Thanks,"
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6covering my face and hands. The fleas were gone, but the silk - smooth and clean as a first winter's snow - remained. "Damn good silk," I said, "Damn good." And so it began.
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5As usual, Mrs. Frobisher arrived early. Mr. Finks' watch read 9:15 AM as he sluggishly opened the door. "Good morning, Rosalyn," he muttered, "Make yourself comfortable. I'll be
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2Ol' Angry Joes hesitantly reached for the chocolates. "No foolin?" he asked. "No foolin," I answered. The box snapped down across his fingertips. Ol' Angry Joe felt the pain rush
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5David pushed the cart back across the parking lot. It slid awkwardly into place. David shuddered. "You happy now?" he yelled towards his pet. Westie barked - a cold, wordless bark.
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4Everyone seems to own a ukulele these days. Good thing I'm different. I own two.
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3see through my very core, and predict my every move. "Alright, Garruk," I hollered, "I see you've been upgraded. But there's something even you haven't accounted for." I reached
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7to each and every country, spoke with each and every leader, and calmly explained each and every detail. "I am your god," I said, "Now show me where you keep the pizza bagels."
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4several guard dogs, corner-to-corner security fences, and a watch tower just above her bedroom. People still found there way in. "Show us what you can do, Maria," they'd whisper.
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10had never had Christmas Horse before, and she certainly wasn't willing to experiment. "Look, George," she began, "You'll have to keep that thing outside, and I better not catch you
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6To save us all from broccoli, tomato, corn, and peach / Oh tidings of sausage and cheese. Sausage and cheese. Oh tidings of sausage and cheese.
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7The world spins before you. Time stretches backwards as light, sound, and emotion swirl around you in a terrifying cocktail of nausea. You slam hard against the kitchen wall, just
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2"You can't just borrow my dentures!" the man screamed, his gums flapping against one another, "There's a wait list, dammit, and you haven't even taken a number." The thief turned