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-ma vie, the ruse: part 2--ma vie, the ruse: part 2- in Humor
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Cecil Terwilliger, formerly of cell block 4, Springfield Penitentiary, was pleased to say he was not insane,
thank you very much. His life was (most of the time) perfectly normal. He had never tried to run for mayor on a
corrupted agenda. He had never married someone just to murder them, and he had never held the city ransom
with a nuclear weapon. No sir! Cecil was just about the nicest, most pleasant guy you'd ever want to meet.
It was his brother that was weird.
The red-haired Terwilliger sibling stooped down at their front door and retrieved the envelopes. As he
shuffled through the mail, he predicted that within them were bills, begs for subscriptions to trivial publications
about theories about a musician's surgically-enhanced nose, which rat-faced boy-band dropout would become the
next bubblegum pop sensation, or who Selma Bouvier was dating this week. His expressive onyx eyes blinked in
-ma vie, the ruse: part 1--ma vie, the ruse: part 1- in Humor
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"Wow! Radioactive Man Vs. Wussycat: When The Claws Come Out!"
Bart Simpson gaped upon the comic book in the window of the Android's Dungeon & Baseball Card Shop. "Man,
only a few of even the most elite comic book collectors own *that* one! Aah, how I admire their strength of
much moolah, their grace and bravery of their never begging their parents..."
Milhouse Van Houten loosened his fixed gaze upon the book, and shifted his glance to Bart. "Yeah, they're
known as the Wussies!"
Bart blinked at him puzzledly.
"Er..they're still trying to come up with a new club name."
After a few more minutes of worshipping, the admiring silence was disturbed by the hoarse, slightly-scratchy,
threatening voice of a certain bully. Oh, no.
"Hey, Four-Eyes!" Nelson Muntz called out, standing behind the two boys, and with two other boys behind him
in a rather 'bodyguard' fashion.