Finished Folds (1—20)
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1I've tossed a few magic beans towards Earth, we'll see how you like that.
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1Rin took the peeler in one hand and the basket of cucumbers in the other. This cued a disturbing montage of flying cucumber skins. "Where's my penis?"
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2much souffle a person could eat. It would vary from person to person. She'd have to take averages. And she hated statistics. Despite this,
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2She was a vegan, but she wasn't above murder. But she couldn't pull it off by herself, and she refused to enlist the help of any non-vegan murderers
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3that moment that the door bust open. "Not my octopus!" The scientist shouted. She threw a gun to Mr. Octonoodle, who caught and aimed it straight at me. I brought a knife to a gun
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1NULL RIZZ. ZERO VOTES. NEGATIVE CHARISMA. GET GONE
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3sort of hideous agglomeration was this? He'd specifically asked for a werewolf potion, but here he was with his massive (hopefully functional?) bat wings and horned hooves. Well,
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3title, but I couldn't remember my name. "Thank you for the welcome, Specimen Two," I joked. The humanoid took no pleasure in my wit. It led me through a quadratic forest of beans
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2The head engineer quickly set upon building a cake-cutting prototype with 100% accuracy. "And it can't fuck up the frosting, either." "Yes, I know. Pass me that umbrella? Thanks."
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1ible cats. They're predators! Worrycakes were meant for prey animals. But it became a new intellectual exercise: Oh, understand how it is to worry, like the jumpy herbivores do. So
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2marsupial pouch and withdrew a quadruple-barrel gun. "But it'd be easier just to shoot you." Big Claw pulled the trigger and launched four bullets into their "operation." Kaput.
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2Abruptly, the yearning from the wine worms in her stomach stopped. Now in excess, the un-converted alcohol began to seep into her bloodstream; oh Lord, she was about to be SO drunk
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4along its track, sending it rolling into the neighbor's kitchen. "I... thought it was my wedding cake." David winced internally. He was never good at lying. "It was... too dark to
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1I've already angered a video artist, a Marvel fanatic, and a few penguins. I've been the receiver of enough anger for a lifetime. But I couldn't shake the feeling that I needed to
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1"Ethel faked his death. He bribed the funeral home into running a ceremony with an empty casket. Half the mourners there were in on it." Father Iago said this with a pitying tone,
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3and let him rescue me. My soon-to-be prince waded through the boggy water and tentatively lifted me from my bed of spikes; I tried my best not to hold my nose. Our sorry scene was
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2these accoladed colonoscopies would be a mere fifty cents. But in this economy, a colonoscopy's only fifty cents if you have Lindt's Special Star Insurance, and only twenty people
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1She was found five minutes later, still out. As the paramedics carried her out, she dreamt of tapioca monsters. The elevator was given the all-clear despite the clear OSHA violatio
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3. They're covered in metal." "I can, but I'll warn you, I'm wearing nothing underneath." But security came first, so you took them off and went streaking through the metal detector
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2on top and "BOTTOM TEXT" below. The next day, a team of hypochondriacs petitioned Candy Aphasia into the DSM-VII. But news of both events was buried when, on Monday,