March 12, 2012

And so I put it to you, Reverend Mother, that not only were you aware of the locations of both cows and the tiara, but you were instrumental, nay, willingly crucial in the deployment of the harvesting equipment. Furthermore, it remains an undeniable, irrefutable fact that the damning beaded purse was found in your personal treasure chest along with various and sundry relics stolen from the Caves of the Moon in the Desert of the Sun on the Plains of Rainy Spain. Lastly, and by no means leastly, your footprints were found trailing off in drunken wobble from the den of iniquity otherwise known as the Piltdown Toy Factory and Dental College, a notorious drinking haven for unrepentant scholars of unseemly stripe. Reverend Mother, I say in all humility and compassion, you are vile, disgusting and not worth a wooden slat torn from a poorly made set of Venetian blinds.

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