My pants deny my existence. They have forsaken me, locked me out of out he house and taken my wife and family for its own. I lie here in the gutter, pantsless and crying. Passers by taunt me and throw me gnarled twigs. I catch and eat them, but they do not satisfy. As I gnaw on my fibrous shame, I feel a prod in an area of my body that excites me... Could it be? Have my pants returned! No. It is only a squirrel.
WANTED: Someone to go back in time with me. This is not a joke. You'll get paid after we get back. Must bring your own weapons. I have only done this once before. Safety not guaranteed.
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