Roy Blower sitting on his throne in City Hall, casually looks at his pocket**tch

summons Igor and soto voce says: "Igor. Release the poomer." And then standing at the window looking at the pramfaces on the market scurrying to the safety of thier homes and thier twenty bensons, "Run my pretty, run!"

Posted By: Arizona Bay on October 17th 2007 at 11:34:09


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