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A Ten Pound Bag
Chapter Seventy-Three – A Feverish Interlude–II

Chapter Seventy-Three – A Feverish Interlude–II

Left. Right. Left.

Left. Right. Left.

Whoomp. Whoomp. Woomp.

Fucking mortars, I hate fucking motars.

Where is that fucking air support, worthless ass fly boys.

Phelan get down you idiot, that’s a tornado

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Whoomp. Right. Whoomp.

Aw fuck Phelan is down, shooter!!

What the fuck is a tornado doing here? Motars during a tornado?

Where the fuck is Phelan’s face, I can’t find his face.

They shot off his face Doc I can’t find his face.

Fuck, they shot me in the back again Doc. I found the guy, shot him in the face. That’ll teach him to shoot Phelan’s face off.

Magic pills Doc, I need some magic pills. They shot me in the back again. Why does everybody keep shooting me in the back?

Buggy!! Pass that hootch over here, it’s thirsty in here buddy and you’re always hogging all the hootch. Give a brother a go, I couldn’t find Phelan’s face man, I need a drink.

Thanks Doc, say when did you get so pretty Doc…..

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