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Fred's cry brings his oft-forgotten page, Elf-Boy The Gastrointenstinally
Cursed. Not to mention the other curse of people around him tending to
forget he existed. Elf-Boy was dressed in clashing blue and reds, brown and white hiking boots and a big cap of jingling bells. His clothing was mostly an effort to remind people he was there, except the ladies underwear, which, as he told people un-asked, was purely for comfort reasons. Elf-Boy weilded a powerful White-Lighter sword, stolen from the Temple Of A Thousand Heros. It could cut through stone like butter, turn butter into stone, slice a rider from a horse without harming the horse and even take turns On Watch. That is, if Jorbleb The Wandering Hero-Ghost was visiting his friends, seeing as how a thousand heros were trapped in the sword. (That got antsy, as sometimes some of the more excitable heros came to the forefront and the sword kept clipping off dress shoulder straps).
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10/3/2006 4:27:23 AM
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