for all, who
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for all, who
is behind this!"
Elvis's ghost mischievously
stole into the
grotto of Hermaphrodite
with a big
hunka hunka burnin'
Luuuurve. Thank you
verramuch and goodnight,
Cleveland, was the
haunt's haunting refrain.
From the depths
of her diaphragm,
she sang forth
and forth and
then abruptly stopped.
The sound of
one hand clapping
was all that
filled the void
of infinite sadness.
Elvis only had
tears in his
eyes for a
short while, though.
The blast from
an incoming meteor
swept through all
the divine grottos
on the seedy
side of Manhattan
causing a massive
disruption in the
distribution of winos
, as their bottles
were tossed disastrously
across the lower
East Side. Luckily,
Sipowicz and his
three hawt partners
, the sister wives,
who along with
the Winchester boys
, had been following
the trail of
dismembered castaways for
days, showed up.
"'Sup," said Sipowicz.
"How's it goin'
on this limpid