Finished Folds (1—20)
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3"Of course I did. And don't call me 'Rilege.'"
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5in the Magic: the Gathering tournament he hoped would cap off the entire affair. Idly re-taping the bridge of his glasses, he ruminated on the nearest Deep Space Nine poster until
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2their marriage was over--the unpacking was, in this case, as metaphorical as the packing was literal. He turned to consider the racks of replica swords hung around the den, then
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4is! A Replicant!" Archie howled, his cry of anguish climbing octave by octave to a keening no human could have made. Suddenly, he lept at Jughead with murder in his robot eyes.
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4She had wrapped him in the Shroud of Turin. Later, as he marched past her window, world-pope of the Universal Church Triumphant, she decided she'd store her relics separately now.
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7the last chicken wing. "Gah!" he cried in alarm. "Did you see that?" She smiled awkwardly. "Oh, well... my superpower is to make ammunition appear at socially awkward times, so
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2It was often difficult to find a sex worker willing to give him a Casino Royale, so his superb luck in discovering that his blind date had an insatiable lust for the practice was
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3"Love hurts."
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4you'll understand why I burned the master copy of Atlas Shrugged. Even leaving aside the abhorrent philosophy, the writing was turgid enough to warrant the fire. The heist began
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6sit them down for a frank talk about how their actions affect me and how I don't like the person I am when I give in to these feelings of animosity. He laughed, and The Change was
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6The screams of the other patrons in the McDonald's Fun Zone were a distant drone behind the ringing. Numbly, my foe slipped beneath the plastic rainbow waves of the ball pit.
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6hurriedly fastened my clip on bowtie around my neck, an act of sartorial elegence made more difficult by the blood rushing to my head and the taut cords of my straining muscles. He
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4His outlandish cybernetic penis. Free from the control of his central nervous system, it clicked and whirred in confusion, spasming on the ground like a beached eel. Bemused, I
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4my assailant, who staggered under the blow. "Wait, driftwood? Elvania is landlocked!" "Goddamnit, Larry, I'M the Dungeon Master! It's my story!" "But if--" "SHUT UP, LARRY."
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3The day when the beholder burst from the Sex Dungeon, squawking in bestial rage and firing magic beams from each of its many vagina-stalks. I dove behind the couch, speed-dialing
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2Enough. I whispered the forbidden syllables, and the world seemed to twist like a wrung washrag. The eldritch energies rippled from my splayed hands, and the ABBApocalypse began.
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1definitely having to work with Hulk Hogan, who insists that everyone refer to him as "Mr. Hollywood-Hulk" and occupies the bathroom for hours at a time. The grunts and groans from
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6from the drawer next to the bed, my thoughts turned idly to hygiene. Had I washed this thing after I'd used it last time? I shrugged, and, coating the bead with lubricant, popped
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2the storied sword Hrunting, my birthright. Gently, I lifted the blade from her hands. it was lighter than I'd expected. A flash in the dark sky rippled down the folded steel.
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1which flapped in the breeze as the mass collective unconscious turned ponderously upon the airborne Mr. Norris and, with a great psychic groaning, erased forever this joyless meme.