Finished Folds (21—40)
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3growled at the vulture for its error before she noticed that it wasn't a vulture, it was a quetzal. And so she forgave the bird its mix up seeing as she herself was quite mixed up.
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2Nepal, I traded it for a lifelong supply of Crest Whitestrips. The directions stated "use daily," but I was using them hourly. My addiction became so bad that my family
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4velour loveseat. His mother's saliva was unlike most others. It could almost be considered... magical. Family stories abound of how she had saved
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6youthful romantic indulgence. Nay, I was but a lad when first I lay eyes upon thee. Alas, the years are unkind and so I take my leave. Fare thee well, Gweneviere! I do love nothing
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2did not work just as planned. "Who brings a sword to a gunfight??!" I screamed to no one in particular. "You did--" she started, but I cut her off. "That was rhetorical!!"
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2with its watered-down, so-called "horror." Screw Twilight, what we need is a real horror series. Vampires that don't sparkle. Werewolves with personality. What we need is
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3- that fiend was afraid of fire. Coward. And zombies? Hell, you could outWALK them. Of all the supernatural creatures, werewolves really got the fur to flying. I hated when they
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3had infested America. What better place to escape than Africa? With its poverty, civil war and disease, it was just what he needed to forget about that hellish, capitalist US of A.
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3most of the survivors, but I didn't care. "THIS is the 'Clash of the Titans' I remember!" I howled victoriously and took the bloody bag, intent on destroying the Kraken with
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3would look FABULOUS in nuevo-Mayan decor. Can't you just see it? Mayan glyphs done up in aluminum and plywood--" But then he died. Fortunately, I was taking notes. Chipotle would
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3box, dabbing at her bloody eyes. Times like these, she really despised being a creature of the night. Crying blood just got to be so messy. She didn't dare to wear white anymore.
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4an inch of whore makeup. And whore thongs sticking out of her whorish short shorts. She even put up her hair like a whore. There was absolutely no doubt that Tammie was a whore.
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3Nothing got her hotter than the wild eyes, the tangled hair, the incoherent babbling. For she was a mad scientist groupie. Actually, they prefer to be called "eccentric" scientists
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3his life: surrounded by braineaters with some clown always on his ass. The revelation stunned him to silence. It was an epiphany. Now, everything could change.
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4It reminded him of what his father used to always say: "Smile and the world smiles with you, cry and you cry alone." Why did his father always have to be right?
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3refrained from telling the joke around potential new bedmates. Even if it was funny, a punchline of "Herpes!" was not going to set the mood or help him to score. So he changed
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3was tougher, especially dog meat. Especially her meat. She was a tough ol' bitch. He would say this to her affectionately as he stroked her muzzle. But she had to die. It was
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3they deserved. Department stores were ransacked. Electronics were looted. But what good would such things do in the afterlife? If the news was correct, this was the apocalypse, yet
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2on his life. Well, technically, could it be called a "life"? He was a robot, after all, Toyota's top of the line model. But that didn't change the fact that he'd killed a family.
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2too quick. She knocked the gun from his hand. He went for his camera next but that too was sent soaring. Jim panicked. Here he was, facing off a chupacabra. Who would believe him?