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The Garbage Man Cometh... And So Too Did The Inspector

It happened at Rump's Bar one Friday night...

“Another drink, barkeep! No dust!” Rump giggled while mixing another.

Bloody bugger’s up to something.

My attention returns to my precious; she needs a low-density polyethylene changing. Luckily, the G-man always comes prepared. I handed her a larger, room-for-two orange bag, traditionally reserved for autumn foliage collections. It complimented her eyes.

“You’ll find this more... comfy,” I hinted. She quickly scooted her slippery, salacious backside to the ladies. I then saw drunken cocktail umbrella lady.


“What the hell?” I yelled at my ex, knowing she knew my weakness for the polyethylene-clad.

We then jumped. The inspector barked his order.


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