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| " Pox upon thee, little fellow! Creep and fink with stripe of yellow. The gang you squealed on has the urge..." | |
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| "...to sing and strum your funeral dirge. In the drink you should have went, neatly cased in wet cement. Delinquincy can be a blight, when clods like YOU don't do it right.... | |
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| "...Seeing you I hate to think that I was once a "Lousy Fink!" THE END | |
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| I sure hope the guy who wrote this in Mad Magazine 50 years ago doesn't sue J.B.! | |
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