A horrified squeal arose from the assemblage of dentists. For there, on the hill, silhouetted by the setting sun, were the Four Horsemen of the Pocked Lips. Straining at reins of floss and digging in spurs of shattered mirrors, they rode into the midst of their enemies with unleashed fury.

Plaque, weilding his calcified club that sticks fast to all things.

Decay, whose touch rots enamel into viscous and foul-smelling goo.

Halitosis, who leaves stench and the portent of death in its wake.

Stain, whose dark marks will never be removed, even with bleach.

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I’ll be gone a sec, my rhymes on pause
Sneaking like quiet cats with claws
Now I’m back, my needs fulfilled
By a slice of meat that’s grilled

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[swipe]

Smoker? Ew no.

[swipe]

That tattoo looks like it was done in prison. By a blind man. And he misspelled the “little” in “My Little Pony.”

[swipe]

Oh God, not another goblin.

[swipe]

Nicely built elf, love those ears…could do without the duckface but whatever. Wait, what’s that on his shirt? Kinky Boots?

Gay.

[swipe]

Ugh, no sword pics.

[swipe]

God, another goblin.

[swipe]

Oh, what’s this? Well-built, handsome, half-orc but with style. Might be something there! But than again…those teeth…

[swipe]

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Blame can be neither created nor destroyed. It can only be transferred.
Sir Isaac Newton

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“Well, transdeath rights are in a pretty good place right now, but most people only think of vampires and zombies, you know? They don’t even know the difference between a zombie and a lich and a revanent and a ghoul, and they sure aren’t giving us extra points when it comes to hiring.”

“Why don’t you do something about it, Kershaw?” The voice from beneath the grave sounded sad, almost tremulous.

“Well, I try. I run a support group for ‘underserved undead’ out of the community center on 7th. But I’m the only regular attendee since Alan the Barghest died of the rot, and we’re lucky to get three attendees on a good day.”

“That’s…really sad.”

“We have a hard time with those ‘Life Ends at Death’ protestors,” I said. “I’m sure you know how it is. People are scared of the unknown and the unfamiliar, always have been. I don’t blame them and I only light them on fire a little bit, but I think we get targeted a lot because it’s not politically correct for them to pick on zombies or vampires anymore.”

“Would…would you let me come to your support group? Even if I arose as something like a zombie?”

“Of course,” I said. “I’ve never turned anyone away except that one freak in makeup.”

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“Well,” I said, “Gyles Kershaw fled England and Cromwell’s dogs hoping for a place where his alchemy lab wouldn’t be burned down every other fortnight.”

A thoughtful pause. “I guess…he didn’t find it?”

“Oh, he most certainly did,” I said. “He unlocked the secret of life eternal, in point of fact, and was able to achieve powers unthought-of by mortal man through dark elixirs and covenants with the lords of shadow.”

The grave was silent a moment. “Well, speaking with the dead was clearly one of them.”

“I chose the powers I was sure would be the most useful, and would strike fear into the hearts of mortals. The ability to speak to people over long distances without error. The ability to imbue any vehicle I chose with motive power. The ability to cause terrible wounds at a distance. And of course conjuring light and flame at will.”

Maddy was silent from below again. I thought that she was being timid, but after a moment I realized that she was struggling not to laugh. “So…cell phones, cars, guns, lighters, and flashlights?” she said.

“It was a lot more impressive in 1692,” I snapped. “How was I to know that human ingenuity would render each of them meaningless in less than 400 years? Deathlessness was not something I had the training for, and the shadow lord gave me maybe five minutes to choose my powers.”

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“Miss Betsy, Miss Betsy!” the little girl tugged at her teacher’s arm.

“Yes, what is it?” said Miss Betsy, indulgent but exhausted after the child’s constant barrage of questions.

“Why does our class have four Donalds, three Hillaries, two Marcos, and five Teds?”

“Well, you see, it’s because you kids were born in 2016,” said Miss Betsy.

“Why does that matter?” asked the girl.

“People often name their children after candidates they like, and there are an awful lot of candidates in an election year.”

“Oh,” said the girl. “I don’t like that. I wish our moms and dads were more creative.”

“Why do you say that, Berniesandersia?” said Miss Betsy.

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When Tinuviel woke up she wasn’t just in jail. She wasn’t just in a cell in the deepest part of the Welkor’s Light fortress. She was also in the body of a goblin.

“I asked you what we could do to keep from being possessed out of our bodies,” she cried. “Hours ago! But did anyone answer? NO!”

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Controversy continued to swell around the Hopewell Public Library today, as protestor appeared for the third day in a row. Numbering more than 200, they are demanding reforms and justice.

“I’m just saying,” said one protestor, “if these librarians were wearing body cameras, none of this would have happened.”

“It’s shameful,” said another. “They’ve been mistreating patrons for years, it’s only now that we’re starting to wake up.”

At issue is the shushing of unarmed patrons and the assessing of fines in a discriminatory manner. Nine patrons have been shushed since the first of the month, with witnesses and cell phone video seeming to show that the unarmed patrons were shushed despite no detectable noise level. All of the nine were patrons like teenagers, creepy older men, or middle-aged busybodies–all groups that have alleged targeting for mistreatment.

“They shushed me the other day because the other patrons could hear my Nickelback through my headphones,” said one protestor. “That’s straight-up Gestapo treatment, man!”

“I got shushed because I kept asking that cute librarian for her phone number,” said another. “What is this, Soviet Russia?”

Protestors also allege that librarians have been assessing fines in a way that is judgmental and discriminatory. Users from the above groups say that they have been singled out for fines for simply not returning items on time.

Pressed for comment, the Hopewell Public Library has declined to issue a statement at this time, pending a press conference to be held tomorrow at 2:30 EST. This has not muted calls for the librarians in question to be prosecuted and for the State Librarian to resign.

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Weather Complaints – This full-bodied whine is a 2010 vintage from Great Britain, one of the coldest winters on record. It has notes of honey and a pleasant, oaky finish, and is best paired with a light, summery dish such as our salad or souffle.

Traffic Grousing – A 2009 whine from Los Angeles just outside the Napa Valley, famous as the worst traffic in the known world in countries where painted road lines are respected. With bold, bitter essence and a full-bodied taste with hints of ash, it serves as a tart balance for a sweeter dish like our famous honey-roasted pork.

Behind-the-Back Smack – One of the most common whines in the world, this vintage is from 2010 in Washington, D.C., where the smack talk is bigger and bolder than the whine you can find in your local grocery. Pair it with our hearty German cheddar soup.

Queue Quips – If you’ve ever waited for 10 minutes in line only to have them open a new register for people that have been there 30 seconds, you’ve tried this type of whine. Our fine vintage is a 1999, with the extra oaky overtones and nuances of toast that come from waiting in line for Y2K snake oil. Pair it with a light appetizer from our menu or fish.

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