Finished Folds (61—80)
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4But I decided to fight back. Me, they will never.... oh shi...
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2though she did eventually spice up her life in order 2 become 1.
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10of the flat earth society, which had members all around the globe. So the Queen selected her best pen and inkpot and started to write
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6It felt liberating, having just lost all of your savings. Marc walked away from the poker-table without looking back. Bystanders were mocking him. Most of them were. He didn't
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3blespoon at her dumbfounded assistant. The truth was: she just wasn't fit to be a leader. She used to think she would astonish everyone with her understanding of
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5With one hand, he pushed a tin box against my chest. The difference in power between the vigilante and me was humbling. "Put a kettle on, love.", the masked man growled. I took
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8every stupid fold, clicking and typing the night away. Or until one giggle -louder than the others- wakes your wife... As she stormed down the stairs
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2is NOT cool. Not cool at all." He looked at me like he didn't understand I got mad at him for gutting a person in MY appartement. I turned around and headed for the kitchen.
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3It was clear the people wanted blood. The MP's on duty did little to protect the doctor and he took the blows with pride. His mad laughter lasted untill long after his death.
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2ditch the helmet. He managed to turn around and tried to keep his eyes open for as long as possible. For as long as it would take to carry this memory to the next life.
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3in a public bathroom. Pictures of incrusted filth, stale water and pubic hair flickered before her eyes. She had to get out. She had to escape this stink-filled house. She turned a
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2the old man outed his despair. "Calm down, Grampa, it's not that bad..." His first day in the
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0destroy the Devil en claim vengeance. It was a night to remember.
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0minutes later the news came in:
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3November 4 2012... Oww..." "Do you mean we missed it?" Well... Erm... Yes." replied Prof. Wacawny, clearly depressed. He would omit that part from his memoirs, he thought.
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3way of hiding but the shabby diner two streets back. He started to draw her portait in the greasy dust on the table. Her hair dripped
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2to help him gather the garbage. The meeting was a total chaos and most stakeholders just gave up. It would be a dark day at Wall Street...
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4ly, the lights in the hall stayed out. The audience grew impatient. The negotiations behind the curtain grew louder and some
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6have a chance to be happy together. Or at least to spend a few good years. He tried to avoid staring at her body and the exquisite way she knew how to move it. "Hi
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2were bloodier than ever. But the youth did not care. The youth never cares...