Oh ny

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RUMMY THE SAILOR SAT down with his wife. A salty African drabbling with his nutmegs when a loud crash came from above.

IT CANNOT BE said rummy the sailor boy. I THINK MY GRAPES ARE FALLING.

He ran as fast as his African legs would carry him to the place where the habble rocks lived. WE ARE THE BABBLE COCKS they said to him in a baritone kinda way. F*** THE C**** OFF he said to them and shot them with his audio powers.