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dickOnce upon a time, there was a young boy named Dick who always dreamed of becoming the world's best stripper. He trained every day for 85 hours in order to beat his rival, The Fat Menace. The day of the big competition arrived, and Dick came armed with a sandal and his unstoppable determination. They were pitted against each other in a battle of wits, and Dick emerged as the farty victor! His achievement is celebrated every Halloween .
chp. 1 part 1Nev lay on her bed fast asleep, scoot sat on top of her dresser looking down at her, thinking of when he was alive, he could have had any girl he wanted except her, he had liked her since they where kids but she had never looked twice at him, now she never see him.
"oh how pathetic" a girls voice said "would you just get over it. Like you thought she will never see you again" the girl said "go away Clare" Scoot said the girlClare-just went to the bed to get a closer look at Nev "i don't see what you see in her" she said "just stop Clare" he snapped, she stood up strata and put her hands up "fine. But you should get over her you know" Clare said to Scoot.
Clare walked to the mirror and plumped her blond hair and straitened her cheerleaders uniform "ya know its wired the living can only see us in mirrors" Clare said and turned to face him, he didn't look at her, "like when you see someone but then you look again and there gone" she continued to him, he looked at Clare an
Prologue"come sit with us Scoot" said Clare, he looked at her then back to staring out the window, she turned back to the rest of the team and cheerleaders flipping her hair as she went, lathing to some thing a guy said "hay man you okay" asked Scoots best friend John, "yeah man I'm fine" he said.
Just then the bus swerved to stop from hitting some one in there lane that must have been drunk, "wow some people" Scoot said "yeah I know" John responded. Then there was a crunching at the back of the bus and they leeched forewords turning so as not to hit the care in front but going of the road and crashing down the side of the hill into the lake. no one made it.
Back in a small town Nev fell from her seat at dinner with a scream, in two days the ceremony was held for the dead.
Poetic PsychosisIn thirty seconds, the next shell would fall. Every night was the same, but every night Lorenzo experienced it as if it were the first time. His throat felt swollen; breathing was hard. He glanced around at the others; young men like him who had been shipped out in the name of honour and freedom. There was no honour in this, no freedom. Only death behind your eyelids, and a fear so gutting, that it carved out your innards and left you a hollow husk. Lorenzo tried to breathe, tried to assure himself that he was still whole, still made of flesh. They had lied when they told him he was ready.
Matteo ran towards him, arms out, rifle swinging uselessly at his side. He shouted for him to run, but Lorenzo remained motionless, unable to move as his friend’s warning was lost in the constant blare of gunfire. None of them were ready.
“The cycle is repeating. It is not safe.” The voice was soft and weak, yet it carried over the gunfire and battle cries without impediment.
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More