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It had been a bad day for the unassuming, mild-mannered, dalliant
delinquent called Josh Burbank or 'Scoops' or 'Pickle Boy'. First of all,
Scott had told
Fred a horrible lie when he said Josh was the one who pulled the cord. In
actuality, the cord was pulled probably three times a day by various people
and extra-terrestrials.
The reason? Maybe it was the big flashing neon sign that read: Pull
Me! It’ll be fun! Nothing bad will happen! But the reasoning was
inconsequential. Wow, that’s a big word. Anyway. Ya. Where was I? “You were telling the nice people about what a two-faced lying son of a mother’s uncle that Scott guy is,” Josh said in a thick Irish accent he had recently acquired for reasons unknown. “I just like the sound of it, laddie.” Whatever. I think that’s a Scottish accent, anyway. “It’s hard to tell the two apart.” True. So pretty much everyday was a bad day for Josh. He was either cleaning up bat guano or gathering guano down in the bat caves. It was a dull and tedious routine that he was bound to by mystical energies and swirling vortexes and stuff. The only way he could be freed was if someone rang the bell up at the counter. But to this day no one had.Josh dipped his mop into the bucket’s brackish water and sighed. He imagined himself a swan and found himself saying, “Goobak ark merlork.” Goobak ark merlork, Indeed. Suddenly...
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3/6/2008 3:42:58 PM
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