When we found Potemski, he was shuddering in the corner, his face slick with sweat and spittle.
“The figgy pudding! The FIGGY PUDDING!” he jibbered.
So there it was, no choice now. I tapped on my cell, my fingers suddenly weary, knowing what was to come and what this would all mean. A flipping code DC. No more holiday clear, just ho-ho horror.
I
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It was fun, though! ;-D
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One question, though; how does one shoot a ghost with a gun?
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