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I look at it as another piece to literature's largest jigsaw puzzle. What is infuriating is that I know the puzzle will never be complete, but like a madman I keep brooding over it.
*The Dark Elf's eyes blink rapidly and there is a slight tremor in his hand*
Ummm...what were we talking about?
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And your little sister's immaculate virginity wings away on the bony shoulders of a young horse named George who stole surreptitiously into her geography revision.
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