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Keeping A Stiff Upper Lip
Rigor mortis does a fine job of it.
Sunday, January 30, 2005
Sniff.
A. asked me where the courier went and I said I don't know. But I remember he smelled yummy, exactly like a grilled sausage where others reeked of tobacco and yellow teeth, and there's a bloody uniform in the trash can.
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Shryh
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Sniff.
Mm.
Gag.
Crunch.
Oh.
Slurp.
Wha?
Eh.
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