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She sprawled on my thread-bear rug like a worn out pink donkey. Only this donkey was done braying. The hole in her belly as big as LadyJ's rack told me_she_wouldn't_be_going_to_see_wirthling_no_more.
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| You're in the coal mine with no canary now, Spanks. If the Penguin thinks you did this it'll be draperies for you. And if the cops get windy you wont be a private pecker no more! Of course... | |
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And me with a shooter in my shorts with her lipstick and fingerprints all over it. Things didn't look good, and only got uglier when Gabe walked in.
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| Of course what? Cough it up Gabe! Do you know who did this? | |
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| No, but I have a tinkling of an idea. But you'll need the proof, and he caries it with him - never lets it out of his pants. | |
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| Him? Him who? Make sense man! What does he carry?!? | |
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| For crying out the window! Don't eat my panties for brunch! | |
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