Grasp basketball, stretch phalanges. Grasp keyboard, stretch mind.

Preamble perambulate par rumble parlance pair ambulance.

Patrick Packer smacks a masochistic cracker quarterback, a slacker with a backwards Adam’s apple drinking Snapple, playing sax.

Steve Jobs leaves gobs of cheese knobs in three fobs. Please clobber these pod people. Free flotsam, cream sauce.

Every other belly bumper sneaks a sucker punch, an upper cut, a socket swinging sideways, popping open plenty other pounding knuckles, petrified like wood.

Even these bugs know he got the smug flow. Mosquitoes and katydids ran and hid at what he said. Flipped a lid, sick. Nicotine stick. Coffee body, use the potty, clobber sloppy syntax like anthrax, he can’t slack these hand tracks.

Okay. Fiction.

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