My story is quite simple. One beautiful, sunny day I was just frolicking down a deserted
back road when there it was - the PERFECT Gingerbread Man. I leaned over to pick up
that golden-brown goodness when BAM!!!! - I was jumped by pack of wild gingerbread
men. They were a bunch of hoodlems - you know, pierced frosting and stuff. Well, now
it's four years later. I'm paralyzed from the big toe down, and thousands of dollars have
gone into extensive psychotherapy. I think that I'll recover ONE day.
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