Why you don't get published.
her cage, said, "Your father has fertilized the egg of another peahen for the last time, dear. I drained the brake fluid in his car."
her cage began to sing. I know why the caged woman sings. I know how to get her to shut-up too. I followed dad
I was going to say cage too!
a tub of churned butter, gathered her wits and felled him with a toss of her rolling pin to the noggin.
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