Finished Folds (81—100)
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1And that's how the could follow him, and eventually trial him for his crimes against wildlife.
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0But nobody liked the cl0wn...
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1the only thing I had to do, was to mix it with the rum I'd bought in the morning. Wow, that was different from the childhood memories! "Not that different", remarked Astrid.
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4never really ate the sweet dishes, but she couldn't offend the Royal Custard Guild. That is how he and his dad came to meet the best baker in London: Zachary Brown. Zachary had a
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3semi-professionals, I mean my brother, my cousin and uncle Len. They're most likely the ones who would've visited my in prison anyways...
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2The mole wasn't a problem though. The problem was the wife. Every night she asked me to get naked, threatened with divorce. One night she even tried to drug me. My evening cocoa
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2you OK, young man?", the curator asked. "Sure!", he yelled from behind the shower-curtain,"I only hope I turned off Facetime!"
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3And they were prepared. With what was left of the ammo, they pulled together a small army of very drunk Irishman. A piper played an up-tempo tune to keep them awake. Once
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2readjusted his chair. Looks like this was gonna be a long night. "Just leave him alone now, Jack."
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5".elttob akdov olleH", I started, "?uoy pleh I naC" It didn't answer. I might have tackled the issue all wrong. I took off my headset and tried again, but with another
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2knew, but then again, Wallace wasn't the brightest fellow to say the least. The ones in charge knew when to stimulate him and knew when to leave him alone. When he was in the green
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2The spatula remained on the kitchen table. Badly lit and surrounded by flour and broken eggshell. The heat from the oven radiated through the room and I could barely
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4When his mentor, Dr. Vurn, had given him the Nautilus. It was a hot day in Douala. The armpit of Africa they called the place. Nemo couldn't believe it at first. When
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3o, when Greaves helped those 22 orphans escape I had purchased just on the other side of the Indian border. He was the one with unlimited funding this time, but I, on the other han
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6", but the warrior remained unfazed. We roasted the meat above the campfire in my back yard and I played some folksongs on my ukulele. The warrior was an OK bloke. After he
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2made Adolpho feel like Christmas inside. The smell got worse and Michele decided to leave as far as she could. She stole a bicycle 2 blocks down the street and
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2CIA hadn't told Reg, wast that the cigarette-smuggler was a spy too. The blueish filters contained information about the VietCong, the orange ones were
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3untries, for impersonating a physician and taking advantage of...". Doyle had heard enough. He signaled Sasha to duck, took out his miniature-revolver and just
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5, "I'm sorry you had to find out this way, son... But mom is actually George R R Martin. I mean, not really, but she's what we call a ghost-writer." It suddenly made so much sense
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3in an own kind of jibberish. I did sound familiar though. Like the backwards talking I practiced with my little brother when we were young. "?elttob akdov ,uoy era woH", I asked.