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| Okay...pant, pant...Matt's busy dismembering that effigy of me I made out of that guy in the bag. Now to figure out what's going on... | |
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| Okay, let me see...this all started when Matt and I jumped that kid with the frosted hair, waif-like stare and trunkload of occult tomes. | |
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| I suppose I should have realized he wasn't going to a bar...but what hideous force could have led him to this dank pit in the middle of the wilderness? | |
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| Wang-Dang-Sweet Poontang, motherfucker. | |
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