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A Sticky End
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....and so it begins
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"And what might this miasma be, now creeping round my seat?"
'Twas far too late, for vengeful Fate gave him what he deserved:
As the implications struck him, he was terribly unnerved
But would not yield so grabbed his shield and sallied forth to fight
But as he proceeded, his left leg didn't feel quite right
He then came notice a fissure near his thigh
He then came notice a fissure near his thigh
Several inches long, and a centimetre high
From out the cleft there trickled forth a dark and noisome issue
Which was left unstaunched although he used many a Kleenex tissue
The trickling liquid oozed and spread and noxious fumes arose
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