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Personal Log: Day 8 of the African Safari. Me and my men are in great spirits over the prospects of catching the elusive white elephant. It is not a question of if, only a question of when.
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| We're pretty close, aren't we, boss? | |
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| Close indeed. I bet by sundown he'll be ours. | |
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Day 41. The Beast still eludes us. The men are in a bad way, and some have even taken to a sort of animal language. Whether this arose from delirium or sun stroke, I am unsure.
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| The dancing chicken sleeps till noon if the silver chipmunks don't eat out of cereal bowls. | |
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| Harvey, snap out of it! What's gotten into you? | |
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Day 64. All of the men have succumbed to the sickness. I stayed up all last night trying to think of some medicine that would cure them. And that's when I knew we'd need the wooden badger.
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| So did the aardvark eat the orange sundial, boss? | |
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| No, the electric guerrila stained the sink first. | |
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