Finished Folds (21—40)
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4was all that rosamania could manage to type. She'd never been very good with computers, but after the partial lobotomy things were obviously much worse. Additionally, she couldn't
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2I fumbled and dropped my last remaining clip. I'd never been good at reloading in a hurry, and the growing stench of piss was only making me more nervous - particularly due to
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1men were falling and hitting the ground, each with a dull thud. On the other side of town, Tim had just entered his first gay bar where by a strange coincidence his favourite song
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1a three day trip, all expenses paid, to one of the finest spa and relaxation centers in town. He was confused - they said it like it was a terrible thing - but to him it sounded
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2and moonwalked the rest of the way to the fridge. The tiles on the floor were cold against her bare feet and this wasn't the most ideal surface for moonwalking, but a girl must
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2little interest in any of this, however. He just wanted to talk about his latest and greatest invention - the "multiple orifice cleansing device". Initially I was uninterested
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1select a nice tender piece, then take it out to his garden where he would practice his basting. He didn't care if he was seen by the neighbours, he just wanted to become a master
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2-- your mother a whore! It was one of those priceless channel-changes, which you couldn't orchestrate if you tried. He left Jerry Springer on in the background and
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4rather burn this shit to the ground. I knew some guys from my time inside - not the kind of guys you would introduce to your mother, but the kind of guys that can get a job done.
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2the hipsters started to arrive. Now, I'm not sure if you know how much hippies appreciate skinny jeans and asymmetric haircuts, but it's not a lot. He continued to play,
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3how I wanted to be reincarnated. All my life I had been yearning for something, and I had finally realised what it was. I wanted to be a hot dog thrown down a well.
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2all the books in the great libraries, and all the images on the Ubernet, nobody has ever achieved anything without copious amounts of lubrication.
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2Today was the day that all he had ever held dear would be torn apart, like a duck in a Chinese restaurant. His mother, who he had not seen since birth, was to be
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4began to quiz her on anesthesiology, in the vain hope that this amputation wouldn't be like his previous. His questioning was met with a vacant stare, so he grabbed a wrench and
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2eyed the scene carefully and toyed with his sunglasses in his hand. "It looks like our victim," he began, as he raised his sunglasses to his face, "was stationary." In the distance
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3considered the situation. It had been some time since he and Scarn were in a situation like this, but he reckoned that with the proper application of lubricant and explosives, they
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0and pulled out part of Mrs. Johnson. The details of exactly which part elude me, suffice to say that it was one of the more... "well used" areas. The prettier pieces had all been
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2chloroform. I quickly rinsed one of the rags I'd been using earlier that day, and headed back to show that bitch how we do things in this part of town. I'm not even sure she knew
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8better when she's sedated", he'd say. It wasn't long before she passed away like the others, and all the talk of kids was dropped. He packed his
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1were already far too tight, and as the transformation began, they began to tear. Tear like wet newspaper, revealing to everyone the throbbing specimen inside. "Hallelujah", he