Seeing as our new-and-improved Head of the Board can't seem to get his arse into gear, I suppose it's up to me, as usual, to save the day. I don't know why I bothered quitting in the first place. Everything falls apart without my lightning-quick touch
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you know bout greggs right
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Advance warning: you're coming nowhere near my bits, little boy blue.
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I suppose if it is somehow filled with enough rage and anger against you, it could rise up out of the grave, decaying flesh hanging from its bones in strips, fur caked in earth and dried blood, and creep into your bed at night, nestling its rotting cheek next to yours on the pillow as you inhale the stench of death...
But it's unlikely.
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