Finished Folds (41—60)
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4main focus was reining in grandpa's addiction to roller-balding.
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1Is it you? Felicity Jones?
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3"Oh, that? That's the pie-hole." He replied, throwing scraps of bacon into the mossy crater. The bacon was there for a moment, then dissolved and the pie-hole was empty once again.
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5He glanced at his creation. Toasted cardboard slices and sauteed plastic dowels in a peach fuzz bechamel sauce. One more for the win. Calabrian chiles. The judges gasped.
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6A classical rendition of Enter Sandman began to play as I waited on the customer service line. My fold was calibrating, lights flashing with activity. My Yo Mama joke was upgraded
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12Such adulation for Andy's alliteration was alien. Attendees aimed Androids at his aura for optimal snaps. He continued, "Hemorrhage, Hemophilia, Hem, Hippopotamus, Hound, Hilario
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6as did he. Roller-balding was the worst, but a necessary evil. With our roller skates on, we took off our caps and aimed our balding scalps at each other with resounding screams.
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4one bad mamajama. She held it up to the light with rapturous joy.
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6The spinster cackled wildly, cobwebs lining her lips, cats perched on her person. "You're not leaving without some of this." She held out a plate of fresh baked cookies menacingly.
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2He drew a red lightning bolt over one eye and danced into the night, cordless mic in hand. The pant-less dancer was infamous around these parts and feared by many.
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5This was performance art at its finest. She proceeded to demolish the rest of the set in front of a rapt audience, acid jazz bubbling from wall speakers.
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5His childhood dream of becoming a renowned baker had finally been achieved. He lay among folds of tie-dye, bright orange bong in hand. Bongs filled his bedroom from floor to ceilin
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6It was the first time they'd caught me as I'd spent the last 3 years at caroling protests, attempting to crush the patriarchy. Everyone knew Santa was a woman, but the conspiracy
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4the objects in the mirror are closer than they appear. Such blasphemy! What kind of witchcraft was this?
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6my potatoes were boiled in more ways than one. I stopped mid-skate, set the pot on the ground, and removed the oil vat from my backpack to check my fries.
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1glitter left in the atmosphere, one lone Starbase 12 shot glass rolling away from the wreckage.
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5"I wouldn't do that if I were you." I told the aliens who held my Samsung phone appraisingly. They failed to heed my warning and
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4kept him on a strict diet of hopes, dreams and fears in order to deter his former fatalistic tendencies. Children were left un-killed and the village rejoiced. Order was restored.
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5BM. The Thing was unflappable, intangible, unimaginable and as of now undefeated. He pondered its various traits and properties again with various colorful similes, deeply dejected
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6just another brick in the wall. He pulled that brick out to discover another, and another.