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The rain was pouring down that night, like... um... like... um... like something that pours. Such
as rain. I'm new to this supernatural private eye business, so cut me some slack. My name's
Knight. Timothy Knight. Oh wait, you already knew that. I should point out that my name is
Knight, but I'm not an actual knight. That's from a completely different story. Anyway. The air
was thick and humid like the style of an amateur writer trying to parody the noir trope for cheap
laughs. But there was a dame in my office who wasn't laughing.
She was... Well, actually, she wasn't very gorgeous. She was incredibly ugly. How's a private detective in a horror/noirish city full of monsters and murderers supposed to get along without any dangeorusly sexy clients? Anyway. Her husband had been kidnapped by some terorrists, the Dadaist Liberation Kazoo. Should I take her case up? On the one hand, someone must walk down these mean streets haunted by death and dispense justice. On the other hand, she's really, really ugly. I mean really. Eyeball-explodingly ugly. I'm not kidding. Addventure stories are stuffed to the gills with beautiful women, though usually they're just there to cause angst and not to have any meaningful relationships with anyone, especially in this author's episodes, since he has no social life, since he sits around writing weird crap on the internet all the time rather than talking to hot women. But still.
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4/24/2006 5:34:50 PM
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