Finished Folds (21—40)
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3blotted a tear from his leaking eye, slammed a shot of Southern Comfort, and bee-lined to a cute gal across the room. He realized by running into it that Cute Gal was the jukebox.
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1"No, but I know that if you were Dorothy, you'd be dead by now, cuz I ain't bailing you out of this one!"
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10so much more dramatic their first sip of espresso. His beret landed on the table of man in a business suit. Business suit flicked the beret onto the floor: a bold poem gone limp.
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5a lawn. He remained a drunken bastard. He swigged. He guzzled. He belched. A cockroach or spider or something crawled across his foot. He stomped, missed by inebriated inches.
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2me down the hall to a nursery short on nurses but long on bawling infants. He slammed the door and padlocked it behind me. Every single of them damned babies stopped and stared.
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4drinking gin and a doctor lying down on a table telling me I'd met my match. The lipstick...her name was Magill? Lil? Nancy? I winced. My right leg. It had a bullet in it. I looked
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2in disguise: imps as adolescent humans: potential world-destroyers stored in rolling eyes, apathetic stances. It's amazing anyone ever lives through the unmanageable morphing from
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2n though she hadn't brushed up on her shapechanging, she would do any amount of gender-bending she could to score a hot-flashy bedroom scene. Tonight was the night for moans of
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1very greasy. He'd never felt so cock-y. This was worth all his time spent in the pen. Festivities, demise, whatever you called it, sitting beside fruit jello was heaven.
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1It was more like a biscuit, really, but it was taking me to places I'd never been. No one warned me about the electric batter. I blinked away a prime number and nibbled another.
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2said, "Dumbo, you've REALLY got to lay off the moonshine!" I took offense to that, and, stumbling over my trunk, knocking over a bucket of peanuts with my ear, went outside for
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5Dancing with an umbrella in the rain, she kicked her galoshes at puddles and managed not to spill her triple americano. This was the best day of her life...well, except for that
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2Distant thunder rumbled through the air and ground, shaking a shack in the mountains that contained a fugitive of the law.
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6with a wand and a posse! Harry bent down, peered into the sewer grate, "So gross!" he blurted and waved his wand at the sneering clown. "Expect no petroleum!" Hermione shouted.
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2move up to one of those food challenge types with every type of meat and sauce imaginable. So, I got out cheap white bread, mayo, cheese and remembered: I could GRILL this thang!
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5"Pull the cord!" she yelled. But Brian wasn't ready to jump. He wasn't ready to fly. He probably wasn't ready to pancake on the rocks below, either, but..."Pull the flippin' cord!"
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1Or was the cat dancing and the little girl watching?
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2the Seven Eleven, keeping up slurpee machines and issuing lottery tickets. He felt Quixote, donned his broomstick sword. "Fuck it," he said and waved his wand. He believed. "Ding"
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4throwing herself into the kitchen counter. But, she had a fear of counters rooted in childhood experiences with setting the table for deranged visitors who'd befriended her mom.
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3can it!" (Every time she spoke like that, boobie tangents were taken.) "Hells fire and brimstone, woman, breathe and have yourself something relaxing like a-" SMACK!