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Cousin Squirrel RIP; #6 -- Sorry they dragged you back to the Village.


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Oh shit !!!!!  :P 

I always wondered what went on at an Autopsy when an extremely 'hot' but cold girl came in. I've read stories and in the back of my mind figured that they were true, but I had secretly hoped they were not.

And Dth? Please don't send me a bill. I have more than I care to deal with now.

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So Foamy.

What would be the price of admission to this band of merry men (or women) or does it go via a selection process or does it require one to have more fuckheadedness than another?

Of course you're part of the "team." You can be Mr. Blue if you want, as in "deep blue sea."

On the other hand, code names might not be necessary, since I now think there are only two people who actually inhabit CamCamps: me, and some amorphous dude.

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You calling me amorphous?

Shut your mouth. This ain't a goddamn city council meeting.  >:(  This operation requires absolute anonymity. Do not disclose who any of you are to one another. (Should you be caught or captured, Secretary Foamy will deny any knowledge of your existence.)  ;)

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I'm not sure I want to be a part of this clique. No bitches? Just guys? I'll pass. Guys are boring. All they ever want to do is talk about sports.

Emi's in. She's committed.

She doesn't know it yet, but she would never give up the chance to work with a man of your standing and caliber. And I don't talk about sports either. And neither does Mr. Pink. It's either machines, art, booze or beautiful women with us. You'll get along just fine. And Scarlet will love you...

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I fucking can't believe all the fucking bullshit messages I'm getting about this. You know who you are. You know your fucking colors. I need a Mr. Brown cuz TBG gave me a bunch of shit, and now I wanna know if this hard ass mo'fo can stand in for Harvey as Mr. White. And Harvey Keitel is whoop ass god tier when it comes to this amateur hour shit we're trying to pull off here.

So here's your goddamn script in like, 30 seconds. Memorize your part (in both G-Rated or R-Rated versions) or go buy new radiator hoses. It's your fuckin' choice, punks! Get it together and do it: let me know if you can do the rehearsal without bitchin' and complaining: I'll be discussing important issues off-stage with Miss Scarlett while you dudes pull off this heist...

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I'm not sure I want to be a part of this clique. No bitches? Just guys? I'll pass. Guys are boring. All they ever want to do is talk about sports.

Emi's in. She's committed.

She doesn't know it yet, but she would never give up the chance to work with a man of your standing and caliber. And I don't talk about sports either. And neither does Mr. Pink. It's either machines, art, booze or beautiful women with us. You'll get along just fine. And Scarlet will love you...

Typical male behaviour.  >:(  I haven't decided whether I want to be part of your group and there you go making sweeping statements about how I will think in the future. Scarlet is not really my colour either. Again, typical man. Girl = Scarlet, Red or similar. I prefer earthy colours such as Ochre. Perhaps I can be Miss Ochre (or Madame Ochre). But only IF I decide to be part of the group. Mr Pink seems to be a little put out so perhaps it is not a good thing. And I certainly will not be discussing cars or booze. Boring. Women, maybe, depends on how they (we) are discussed.

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and FYI Squirrel, I have no idea why we have to have colours anyway. Is this a game of Cluedo? Miss Scarlett did it with the candlestick in the kitchen, etc?

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