|This one day, I rode my bike to the new bakery that was conveniently located just sixteen miles east of my house. When I got to the bakery, Bobo, the owner of the joint, came out to greet me, because he recognized me from nursery school. Then he did that Italian chin-scratching technique, and called to his wife, "Woman! Come 'n' git this perty lid'l girl some o' that new whiskeh! Yeh hear?"
Mrs. Bobo called back, "I don't got ter listen ter nothin' yeh say! I ain't yer property!"
Bobo shot her in the shoulder and she started bleeding these leathery eggs. Then, about twenty seconds later, the eggs hatched and six little dragons peeped out- all at the same time,too! The dragons attacked Bobo.
Bobo died the next day.
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