Finished Folds (41—60)
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4During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens, I had been passing alone, on horseback, through
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1for every assassin in the hemisphere. The Rockets attempted to improve their reputation by performing at charity events, but with out any band members left, Simon on the tambourine
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3April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain.
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6Captain Lunchbox slipped into the boy's bathroom. Quickly, he removed his junior high dress code-approved button-up and donned his beach towel cape. His OCD was acting up, and he
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2weak points, marked by glowing crystals. I knew if I struck there I might get a critical hit and defeat Tom Cruise, but this wasn't about winning or losing. I wanted to him suffer.
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4men often suffered a condition that causes the hair to grow closely around the mouth in an oblong arch, resembling the visage of a sad clown. They wandered city parks, squirting
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8and then cut off his head-" the adolescent shuddered in horror "-with our vaginas." The young boy's face, which had been contorted into a look of frozen terror, brightened as
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4NSTDs: Nanovirus Sexually Transmitted Diseases. These robotic proteins gradually transformed him into a frighteningly magnetic entity that attracts any metal within 6 meters. Knife
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3with watery eyes. The giant Caterpie sighed, and took a moment to wipe his glass lenses. "Honey," he began through his mandibles, "Let's do this another time? I'm in the middle of
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5and made another lunge for Silvertail, who deftly darted up the tree in the nick of time. The pitbull crashed into the trunk, momentarily stunned. "Goin' in," said Private Twitch.
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4see the out-of-control helicopter falling, spinning from the sky. Her noise-cancelling headphones, playing a Pandora mix of Katie Perry, kept her from hearing its whirling blades
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7young Tahitian lover dressed like their fire god. Once the seed is passed on, the girl takes a pair of BIC lighters to the artist's nipples until he screams into the microphone
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4but was unable to find the baby ass he was looking for. "The bare-assed baby assassin has to be here somewhere," reasoned Obama, studying a particularly puckered baby butt.
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4any obstacles. The stink of ammonia overwhelmed my senses, so I switched to bleach. A weird smell tickled my nostrils and I passed out. Suddenly I was on Mars, and Abraham Lincoln
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5make some kind of advance, but call me crazy, I didn't find Mae West's plus-size glam and cheap scotch aroma all that enticing. "Kid, you gonna pick your jaw up off the pahking lot
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5, asked 'Hhhow you gonna hold your hhand, thumblesss man?' The thumbless human replied, 'Holy shit, a talking Cheetah!'" The audience at the comedy club sat silent.
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3I was employed as a gentleman caller. My client had arrived--I said "Stall her! I have to finish my Oddawalla." I sipped on my superfood drink while i reclined in my chair to think
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3I turned the television off. I'd had enough of Ingmar Bergman's black and white films about Swedish chef-talkin' ladies losing their minds. I had my own mind to lose, and time was
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2A real cracker-jack crock of shit. Besides the shit smell, naturally. But no, a real crocker-shit. Anyway, you were saying?" He realized that during his explanation his friend had
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5the moon was almost full because I probably would have browned him in a garlic white wine sauce in a lupine culinary psychosis, and he doesn't deserve that. He delivered me.