“Young lady! Are you sure you’re of legal age to be smoking those cigarettes?” “No, I’m not of legal age. The sky was dripping a wet, slow rain that had forced the city’s inhabitants into taxicabs and dingy cafeterias, the day wholly ruined for all except the insane schizophrenics and her. “It’s my fault. As it is not, however, our intention to furnish a complete catalogue of these curiosities, we shall merely mention that in front of them lay a large and sharp knife, once the property of the public executioner, and used by him to dissever the limbs of those condemned to death for high-treason; together with an immense two-pronged flesh-fork, likewise employed by the same terrible functionary to plunge the quarters of his victims in the caldrons of boiling tar and oil. And always they were well satisfied. "In wine there is truth. Twenty-one, twenty-two. And I think I will indeed blow off your imbecile head.
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