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| Choose your weapon fool, be it pistols or haiku? Sword or pointy stick? | |
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| I plump for haiku, as the setting here is apt, and I fear pain. | |
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| One bottle wine-rack, Large torpedo hit the slot, Beer can in warm fridge. | |
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| Watch it fall from grace, Stool slips out of it's own will, Never squeeze again. | |
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| Shiny toothless mouth, Mouthing words of shame and fear, Never smell it's breath | |
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| Expulsion of air, Reverbates around the halls, Skin didgeridoo. | |
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