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Post by siamesesin on Aug 25, 2013 21:59:55 GMT -5
I'll start. Let's see where we can go with this.
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"And when he was done, he stuck it in that mug on the mantel."
"WHAT?!"
I was having a hard time hiding my enjoyment as I watched the Police Commissioner turn greener than the love child of Kermit and Ed Begley. Well, if the city's most famous desk jockey thought he could turn the latest stop of the Cappuchino Killer into a re-election photo op, I was happy to oblige him by making sure he was part of the action.
Kumbayaa and all for one, bitchtits, I thought.
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Post by Ratso on Aug 26, 2013 20:34:37 GMT -5
About Pancakes I was really quite hungry.
THEN FLYING THROUGH THE WINDOW...
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Post by Don Quixote on Aug 29, 2013 6:15:37 GMT -5
COMES A GIGANTIC ASS, SPRAYING DIARRHEA EVERYWHERE!
But this was no ordinary diarrhea! No, this was MAGICAL diarrhea! This diarrhea's power was to...
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Post by Mitchell on Aug 29, 2013 11:32:22 GMT -5
. . .abruptly break the fourth wall and change a plot point in mid-sentence.
Obviously, pancakes and asses were images of a fever dream, one created by eating too many mushrooms and washing it down with three cans of Four Loko. The Commissioner was still green, though, so I know that wasn't a hallucination. I knew I'd have to sober up quickly if I was to contribute to this case.
I only hoped that I didn't call him BitchTits out loud.
The body, naked and flayed, laid before us. Most remarkably. . .
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Post by nondescript spice on Aug 29, 2013 14:58:13 GMT -5
still clenching on its own accord.
"okay," i said, "who's gonna pull out that..."
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Post by Ratso on Aug 30, 2013 22:42:18 GMT -5
Screamed The Commissioner to a pack of squirrels.
When the confused animals just stared back at him the commissioner became enraged and ripped his pants off knocking himself to the ground in the process.
Cub Reporter Skippy Osbourne...
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Post by Crowfan on Aug 31, 2013 7:03:32 GMT -5
...brought a gun to the company picnic so he could "be the news". He also hated that his name was Skippy.
But at the very last moment......
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Post by Mitchell on Sept 3, 2013 20:17:46 GMT -5
. . .he realized that .22 Long ammunition was not the same as .22 Long Rifle, and as he pulled the trigger the projectile dribbled forth, flaccidly falling to the ground following the report. Skippy would have been better off with one of those guns that had a flag that said BANG!
Obviously his disappointing firearm ejaculation was a metaphor for his virginal life, something that wasn't lost on Skippy. He stood there, shattered, knowing he was likely to be incarcerated, perhaps immediately, and that he'd never see his beloved bottle of Jergens again.
If only, if only. . .
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Post by siamesesin on Oct 10, 2013 18:38:36 GMT -5
...the Commissioner would stop flailing around on the ground long enough to admit Skippy was his long-lost son, Skippy would become the Heir of Ruanock! Skippy could stop pretending to journalistic integrity and just start knocking up the serfs!
Of course, that would mean dear old Dad would have to stop sniffing used hamster bedding long enough to proclaim it, and I would bet money that wouldn't happen until...
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Post by Crowfan on Oct 11, 2013 18:32:37 GMT -5
the Cubs win the World Series.
If that should ever happen, people would probably.....
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