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Funniest s**t I've received in ages. (bottom of the first page)

Yep, that's funny 0.20900321543408 20.9% [ 65 ]
Whoa, serious? 0.10932475884244 10.9% [ 34 ]
Some people are so stupid 0.21864951768489 21.9% [ 68 ]
Poll whore option 0.46302250803859 46.3% [ 144 ]
Total Votes:[ 311 ]

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She snorted at him. Again with that ridiculous term. She was naught a dog. Her nostrils flared at him as she shook her head and attempted to stand up. Trying to show this wretch that she was no dog. Pressure on her paw made her yelp in pain and flop back down. The beautiful wolf whined as she rolled over onto her back, paws up to show him her bleeding paw.

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Shadrach wondered if coming here was for the best choice. He groaned softly under his breath as he stepped up onto the porch steps of the building. A small sign marked it as Two Doors Down. "huh." he muttered under his breath. A loose fitting vest hung from his shoulders, thread bare and thin. Thin enough to see the Crimson Dragon tattoo that wound its away across one portion of his torso. He shook his head. A pain of heartache whispered in his heart but he shook it away. He couldn't afford to think of Gideon... or Ronin. Shadrach stepped inside.

"Hello?"

Super Scamp

"Egads! A right, roguish, bounding, broken bottle!" He leaned in and sniffed the bottle fragments in the wolf's foot. "Smells of RUM! Why in th'world would someone go n' waste a bottle of RUM!!" Groaning he flexed his injured shoulder and let out a groan. "Well here we go...." Sparrah began to pull the fragments from the paw. "Now yer damn lucky Ah gots plenty of rags on me to wrap yer paw like a good Doggy! We'll take care of ya right quick!" He pulled another, slightly cleaner rag, from his pocket.

Human Garbage

The form lying on the couch stirred with a low groan. With a sharp intake of breath, he sat up, blinking sleepily and rubbing the corner of his eye with a knuckle. He was beautiful from his mussed blonde hair to his near-aurous blue eyes. Even though he had just awakened, he smiled widely, revealing rows of shark-like teeth.
"Oh, hello!" His voice held a tinge of some sort of Celtic accent, though too soft to be Scottish and almost too airy to be Irish. He patted down his wrinkled clothes and settled up into a sitting position.
"Ne'er seen you before! My name's Thresh."

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She whined up at him, trying her damn best not to bite at him. The shards of glass in her paw smelled funny. She sniffed at the scent. Rum? What was rum? The wolf whined again as she remained belly side up. This man smelled familiar but she couldn't figure out why.

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Startled for a moment, as his hazel green eyes widened as he stared. After a long moment he realized that he was staring. "Um... Shadrach." he stammered out and dropped his eyes. By the gods of the Vast wilderness... what was wrong with him?! Shadrach couldn't help but stare at the man with the accent. My goodness. He felt his cheeks heat up in a flush. Automatically he began picking at the threads at the hem of his threadbare shirt. "Sorry for staring." he mumbled, embarrassed.

Human Garbage

Thresh's smile just widened until his nose crinkled and his large eyes squinted. He was ethereally pale and a bit thin, with a sharp little French nose, high cheekbones and dark lashes, and barefoot as could be, but still relatively well-dressed.
"'Tis all good and well. I'm feeling better now, but I suppose I've been asleep for a good long while. I must look a mess!"
He laughed and tossed back his head, his shoulder-length pale blonde hair falling back over his shoulders.

Super Scamp

"Aye! AH know what ya need! All good Doggies need belly rubs!" He cackled with laughter and leaned in. His face was etched with pain. "Hoo boy tha' smarts like a sunnuvabitch..." Reaching up with his right hand he grasped the hilt of the dagger and tugged. "Eeeeeeeeeyeah there will go..." With a slick sliding noise he tugged the dagger out. "Now for ya! Let's not dilly-dally!" He started carefully removing shards. "Iffin ye find yerself in need of somethin' ta bite...sink yer teeth into something meaty like my thigh 'er something!"

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The expression on his face was one of uncertainty. To him, Thresh looked fine.... but Shadrach couldn't say that. He mumbled something under his breath. "You look great." he coughed to cover it up. "Sorry... um.. " he didn't know what to say. His hair hung loosely kept in a leather thong, his leather pants hung low on his hips.

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The wolf craned her head to look up at the man. Her brow cocked at him as she gave him an eye roll. Are ye freaking out of yer mind?! Ye could be infected wit' worms an' barnacle flesh. She huffed gently at him, the squishing sound of knife pulled out of flesh paled her. The wolf choked on bile. She tried to roll out and away from him.

Human Garbage

Thresh just kept laughing. He couldn't help it! Why on earth was Shadrach so flustered? Thresh couldn't wrap his head around it. So he patted the couch next to him.
"Come, sit. Ye look a tad tuckered."

Super Scamp

"Stop yer rollin' about or I'll lash ye to the mizzenmast!" He growled and wrapped one arm around the wolf and hauled her up on her rump. "Ya bite me neck and Ah'll make ya a mate on th'Devil's Grip tonight!" He grinned madly and removed the last of the shards. "Dere ya go! Last o' th'shards! Yer naught but a big puppy!" Sparrah burst into more laughter.

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Shadrach was embarrassed. He gulped as he did just that, sitting on the tiniest edge of the seat beside Thresh. "Thank you." he squeaked out. Oh lord no.... he blushed from the roots of his sun bleached hair down to his boot clad feet. What an idiot. Acting like a twelve year old girl with a crush. He kept his head down. Thoroughly embarrassed at his foolish ways.

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She whined softly and flopped her head onto his lap, snuffling for his attention. Her tail wagged in the dirt. Large grey eyes looking up at him. Hoping he'd rub her belly. Devil's Grip.... that froze her wagging tail. It seemed impossible for her large grey eyes to grow wider. Sp...sp.... arra.....

It was impossible!

Human Garbage

Thresh was concerned now. Was he looking sickly again? He tilted his head and gripped a piece of his hair between two fingers. No, the color was still blonde; He looked well enough. So what he did could have been the worst thing to do at that particular moment: He gripped the other man around the shoulders and pulled him close, absolutely clueless. He offered him the glass jug on the table.
"'Ere, have a drink with me. I've not seen another man about 'ere in awhile."

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