I smack myself in the forehead. Holy priceless collection of Etruscan snoods, theyre not moving! I exclaim. Theres a choking noise over my head somewhere. Etruscan snoods? I glow quietly inside. Some accomplishments mean more than others. I am officially the Shit. Now and forever. Dude, watch your question marks. I just pried one out of you. I have no idea what youre talking about. Admit it, you lost your eternal fecking composure. You have an obsession with a delusion about how I end my sentences. What the fuck are Etruscan snoods? Dunno. Its just another of Robins sayings. Like, Holy strawberries, Batman, were in a jam! Strawberries. Or, Holy Kleenex, Batman, it was right under our nose and we blew it!

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Karen Marie Moning, Iced.

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