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Windy, what the deuce goes on here?

Where did that befuddled traveler go?

Shouldn’t there be some sort of wagon in distress? Perhaps a shepherdess looking for her lost flock?

What manner of filthy pumpkin husbandry goes on in this fetid glade?

Holy Halmar’s Teeth what is that coming straight at us?

You’re absolutely right Windy, shoot first, ask questions later! That’s a good stratagem!

Away I say, you pumpkin-headed spawn of devilry! Your reign of terror ends today with a wicked shot right to the babassu!

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Oh the humanity! Fear not my little darling. With just a few snips of my trusty sickle, we’ll have you out of this horrible place once and for all. My pumpkin devotees will welcome you with open arms. Not arms per se. More of a prickly, viney, hug if you will.

More brilliant musings about my adventures in New Britannia

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