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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Nonsense >> ID #667593 |
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Hear ye the rat'ling of bolts loosened in
the heat of drag races, Hark! Is there not one with socketwrench or welding torch who might put my panicking mind at ease, to rest? What, ho? Yea, verily, goodsir, GoodYear. Can thee take such arduous tasks? Aye! Take straightaway with ye, then, done and done! My fee, not shallow, but steep, sir, be give ere such a foulsome deed is done? How so? I charge thee only twenty bucks per hour of service, Sir. Should this task fail me, I should take to womens' clothing out of doors. Yea, Done and done, but find thine workload is in limited time, for have I ten bucks.
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