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I dropped the buzzard in the sand and trudged off slowly toward the town, |
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I needed dinner and a place where I could throw my weight around, |
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I detected faint axilla scent that put me off my appetite, |
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But mouflon warring where I went renewed in me a need to fight, |
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Then reveling in mirror mask I soon was lost in foggy ditch, |
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Without a feather gray or white to tickle that piano witch, |
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Fearing that I must expose my worm to holographic haze, |
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My Clinometer error rose and spawned in her new mawkish ways, |
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I woke the witch with reverence reserved for serpents, snails, and slugs, |
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I pulled the witch from out the ditch and turned to face the furry thugs, |
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The sheep they smiled with teeth agleam, |
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The weapons in their hooves revolved I detected a prostatic ream, |
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I gulped and felt my loins dissolve!!!!!!!!! |