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File 134349796096.jpg - (93.72KB , 960x540 , 134023797173.jpg )
113727 No. 113727
#Discussion #Throw-Aways
You ever spend time writing a scene for a fic, put your heart into it, thought it was really good, but in the end, for one reason or another, just couldn't keep it? Maybe it was a drastically different tone than what had come before it? Maybe it had to be retconed? Maybe it was a conclusion that you decided you didn't want? What ever the reason, are you still proud of that scene? If you are, put it here.

I'm attempting to make a thread with throw-away scenes. These are scenes that your proud of but ultimately can't use. It's merely a place to show off your work.

Rules are simple:
1: Keep it civil.
2: Nothing that shouldn't be on ponychan.

As I said before, this is just a place to show off. Go ahead and post the scene, a little background, and why you can't use it. Maybe some other pony will draw inspiration from it.

Have fun!
Unspoiler all text  • Expand all images  • Reveal spoilers
>> No. 113729
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113729
This is no different than the "Write a scene" thread. The same effect could be achieved by simply saying "This is a deleted scene from X story".
>> No. 113730
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113730
Scince I started it, i'll put my scene here.

Background: For some reason, I tend to write in pieces, so if i get an idea for a scene i write it. This was supposed to be a conclusion to one chapter of an Oc fic. The chapter was actually very pet focused. The idea was two of my characters would go around talking to the pets of the mane six. This scene has my main character Ghostwriter(Not a self insert if you can believe it) his freind Flare, a kitsune, and his pet Australian little red flying fox Beatrix.

Why I can't use it: This made me cry while I was writing it. Maybe I'm just a sap. Anyway the tone seemed like a drastic shift, and I didn't think it would jell well. It's probably written horribly but I was proud of it non the less.

Scene:
Flare stared at the floor as Ghost paced. Beatrix sat at his side, looking just as guilty.

“You went into the Everfree forest,” he said disappointed. “I’ve told you many times, not to go in there alone.”

“I had Beatrix with me,” Flare tried to interject.

“You know what I mean, Flare!” Ghost said harshly.

His pacing stopped. “You don’t listen to me. I don’t stress and order you for my health! Celestia knows it’s not doing anything for my health,” Ghost sighed. “I am glad you went back for Beatrix. At least the ‘family doesn’t abandon each other’ lesson sunk in.”

“I know I’m hard on you, Flare, but there’s a reason,” Ghost looked down. “The average life span of a flying fox is 4 years, 7 tops. When I lose Beatrix, I won’t get another pet, or if I do, it most certainly won’t be another bat.”
Beatrix flew up and hugged him.

“I know Bea,” he said letting the bat back on the ground.

“You won’t lose me,” Flare said trying to cheer him up.

Ghost turned away. “What’s the lifespan of a kitsune, Flare?”

Flare’s eyes widened. He knew what Ghost was hinting at and he didn’t like it. “Ghost, please,” he begged as he looked away. “I don’t wanna think about it.”

Ghost turned back to the twin tail. Lowering himself to Flare’s level, he put a hoof under his chin and turned it to face him.

“Flare,” Ghost said quietly and with seriousness. “Look me in the eyes and answer the question.”

Flare’s eyes were beginning to water. “A kitsune can… can live up to 1000 years.”

“Right,” Ghost said with a nod.
“Now, how old are you?”

“Two hundred fifty years old.”

“And in kitsune terms that’s…”

Flares eyes were now brimming with tears. “Two-” he gulped. “Two and a half.”

Ghost nodded. “Do you know how long a pony’s life is?”

“Ghost, please,” Flare said as tears started to stream down his face.

“Flare,” Ghost warned.

“A hundred years.”

“If I’m lucky,” Ghost added.
“I’ll see the equivalent of your third birthday and that will be it. You will outlive me by a good six hundred and fifty years.”

Flare broke. “NO!” he screamed, lunging at Ghost and hugging him. “I can’t lose you, Ghost. I love you. I can’t!”

“I know, Flare,” Ghost said squeezing the sobbing fox close to him. “Sometimes life just sucks like that.”

Twilight watched with sad eyes. She heard a sob next to her and looked at Spike.

The young dragon looked close to breaking. “Twilight,” he said through tears. “I’m- I’m gonna lose you too, aren’t I?”

Twilight enveloped the baby dragon in a hug. “Yeah, Dragons out live ponies even more then kitsunes,” she answered softly.
As the dragon broke down in her arms, she cried too.

Ghost pulled away and looked in the young kitsunes eyes. “I’m trying to prepare you for when I’m not around. It will hurt, and it will be sad. But I want you to do me a favor.”

“Wh-what” Flare said with a sniff.

“When I’m gone, when all our other friends are gone,” Ghost said his own eyes tearing up. “I want you to take all your memories of me, of our travels, of our time in Canterlot, in Ponyville, all the friends we made, all we’ve seen and heard, and I want you to wad it all up in a ball,” he pointed at Flare’s chest. His words became shaky. “And I want you to keep them all close to your heart.”
Ghost tears finally broke. “Because as long as you keep them there, I will always be with you. I won’t be there physically, but I will be there. And it won’t be just me, it will be all our friends.”

Ghost smiled. “You’ll live on, make new friends, hay, I may ask you to look after my kin, just as I looked after you. But above all else I want you to do one thing.” Ghost hugged Flare again. “I want you to treasure the time we have. Don’t fear the future, don’t fear the time we don’t have. Remember everything, the good and the bad. Because when I go, that will be what stands the test of time. That is what will keep me with you.”

The fox sobbed harder and Ghost just held him close.

“Did you hear that, Spike?” she whispered in his ear.

The draconic youth nodded.

“I want you to do the exact same thing, okay,” Twilight said, separating to look in his eyes. “Treasure what we have, forget what we don’t.”

The dragon nodded and hugged her close.

That night, a sad truth was revealed; not all life will last. But with that sad truth, came a happier one as well; life may not last, but it is never lost.


So go ahead, join in people.
>> No. 113732
>>113729
Maybe so, but I thought it might be a good idea.
>> No. 113749
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113749
>>113727
hmm... I see what you're getting at, but this might be a little more interesting if the reader were already familiar with the fic that the chopped scene comes from (like an 'alternate take' on a reissue of an old record).
>> No. 113964
We can do porn, right? As long as it's
http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/FoodPorn

Part at the end where Fluttershy makes herself a "bad influence" mercifully cut.

I'm about 60% sure I'll have to cut this scene, but I like it.

==
"Good morning, Rainbow Dash. You're up."

"Uh, yeah." Dash wanted to smack herself. Of all the romantic things she could say, that had to rank pretty much at the bottom of the list.

Fluttershy didn't seem to mind. She smiled, her blue-gray eyes shining like ground-fog evaporating in the morning sun. "How about breakfast in the tea nook, then?"

"Yeah," said Dash. Breakfast smelled and looked wonderful: steaming bowls, a pair of pastries on smaller plates, and two glasses of carrot juice. Fluttershy turned back to the end of the hall, and Rainbow conducted herself to the bathroom.

She was washing her face in front of the mirror when she finally put two and two together. Fluttershy had planned to serve her breakfast in bed. It was like some silly little fillies' romance story or something. Her reflection's happy eyes and smiling cheeks even made her look the part. Scowling, she wet her mane and pulled it a back and forth, trying to find her usual expression of cool, confident awesomeness. She didn't usually have to work so hard, but she finally put togther a game face.

It lasted just long enough to open the door, turn down the hall, and catch sight of Fluttershy. The "tea nook" was the place at the end of the hall where her marefriend kept a table and two chairs next to a window. Morning light caught whisps of steam above the food and strands of her host's pink mane. She sat sipping a cup of tea. Dash barely restrained herself from skipping down the hall.

"It's nothing fancy," said Fluttershy, as Dash took her seat, "just hay and oats, really."

Dash's place was set with a small cup of tea and a tall glass of carrot juice. Dessert, a flaky pastry cup containing hazelnuts drizzled with syrup, sat on a small plate. The main dish was a bowl of hay-and-oats topped with an egg, a pony staple that Gilda used to call "sticks and slop with a plop" back in the day - before she turned into a total jerk.

Maybe it wasn't the most appealing thing to an omnivore, but Dash breathed the grassy aroma and felt herself back at flight camp. She looked up and met Fluttershy's anxious stare. "Wow. It looks delicious."

Fluttershy smiled. "Good. I wasn't sure about the egg, so I just made what I like."

Dash took a long pull of carrot juice through a straw. "I don't have much of a preference. Over-easy's fine." She took a spoon and sliced the yolk open. "Woah. Where'd you get orange eggs?"

The yolk almost glowed like a liquid sunset as it flowed into the oats. Dash took a bite and looked up. Fluttershy swallowed and answered. "The color depends on how well the hen eats and if she's healthy. They're not really supposed to be yellow. Some ponies just don't know how to take care of chickens, and... Sorry. I'm rambling. What do you think?"

The slop was amazing - it would always be "slop" to Dash, but she didn't mean it in a bad way. The oats were seasoned with something that brought out the grassy spring shine of the hay, and the egg was very ritch, almost like butter on Dash's tongue - if sticks of butter were made from the distilled essence of what egg yolk should be. She somehow felt richer just tasting it. The common yellow blob was a poor imitation.

Dash swallowed and reflected a moment. She wasn't even going to try to describe it. Somepony else had the food-critic cutie mark. She felt a faint tightness in her throat; she was nearly shedding tears of joy.

She opened her mouth anyway. "I... I love you." The words slipped out on their own.

Fluttershy's spoon clinked as she set it down. She blushed beautifully. "I love you, too."

"This is real, right?" Dash found herself caught up in Fluttershy's eyes.

"Yeah," breathed Fluttershy. "It's almost too wonderful, isn't it? I almost couldn't sleep last night. I thought that maybe I was a bit too much and you'd be gone by morning."

"Never," said Dash.

Fluttershy startled and looked away. " 'Never' is a long time, Rainbow Dash. Let's try for one more day, and maybe another after that." She turned her attention back to her breakfast.

The two ponies ate in silence, Dash wondering if she should probe further, and if so, how. At the same time, the part of her mind that watched other ponies for tricks to imitate noted how a good meal could cut two ways. One one hoof, it made a really great gift, warming her insides with the same happy thrill as a hug or smile. On the other, eating left holes in the conversation for thinking and worrying.

Fluttershy was right. They were way too early to say anything about forever - Dash had no idea if she could hold on to that gushy sentiment even a week from now. Something about the morning was going to her head, and she had to rein it in before she accidentally set up Fluttershy for some serious heartbreak.

For a moment she wondered if that feeling was love. Fluttershy said falling in love was the "little things" about a pony, so that didn't seem quite right. They were friendly and familiar, but that wasn't new. Dash admired Fluttershy's cooking, and got all nervous under her attention.

She realizied she was idolizing Fluttershy, like her heroes, and wasn't sure if it was the right feeling. It was complicated. And she liked simple. Breakfast was simple, so she cleared her thoughts, sipped her tea, drank her juice, and enjoyed her slop in relative peace.

That left dessert. Dash had a particular soft spot for hazlenuts and saving the best for last set her mouth watering with anticipation. The nuts lay in a puddle of syrup resting in a bowl of paper-thin pastry. Hazlenuts were simple, and if love didn't make sense, she could maybe just ask. "So, Fluttershy, how's this romance thing supposed to work?"

Fluttershy glanced up and right, looking thoughtful as she finished chewing her last mouthful of oats. "Well, I'm not really sure."

"But you read those books, don't you?"

Fluttershy giggled. "They're just stories. Unless you plan on rescuing me from a rampaging hydra or proving yourself a worthy suitor according to ancient griffon rites."

"I'm fresh out of hydras, and if I'm getting involved in griffon things again, it'll be too soon. Maybe we just make up our own rules. What do you want to do next?" Dash took a bite of her dessert. Somehow, Fluttershy had remembered that she liked the nuts extra smoky, almost burnt - or maybe they just had similar tastes. The syrup, made from honey and melted butter, oozed across her tongue, carrying caramel notes throughout her mouth. She closed her eyes and savored the morsel with a soft moan.

Fluttershy spoke, bringing Dash back to the table. "I guess it is my turn next. I haven't told you how much I liked that thing with the storm yesterday. Not too many ponies can brag that their sweetheart actually made them a sunset. And, thank you, for the flying stuff too. I'll make plans and be in touch."

"I don't actually have to go. I could get Cloud to cover for me and stay right here."

"Oh, no," said Fluttershy after swallowing a bite of her dessert. "I have a lot of boring animal things to do, and I'm not going to make you pretend to like them. Besides, I don't want to be a bad influence on you.

==

@GhostScribe

You've got some cool conflict there, no doubt about it. The tough part is I'm not quite pulled into the story. Is it still online? I'm gonna go see if I can pull it out of AJx's thread. No promises, but maybe I'll have something to say.
>> No. 113965
I have no scenes that I cut that I'm not entirely ashamed of, else I would post them. Maybe if I revise and have to cut something out, I'll post it.
>> No. 113979
>>113965

Did you write steamy scenes between griffons in your shipfic or something? :P
>> No. 113983
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113983
>>113979
>I am so sorry... I just couldn't help it.
>> No. 113987
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113987
>>113979
>>113983
I wrote their entire "origin" story, then made a huge lapse in judgment with its releasability, combined with FimFic's interface (which auto-labeled it as porn despite that not being the intent of the story), all of which led me to remove it and be content that myself, the original audience Vimbert, and a few reviewers are the only ones with copies.

It's going to stay like that for the foreseeable future, too; I have nowhere to host it except for Google Docs, which isn't really a hosting platform. The content is too mature for Equestria Daily, too good for the PonyFictionArchive, and deleted stories aren't allowed to be reposted on FimFiction.

And it's not porn, so EquestriaAfterDark or The Clopfic Directory are a no-go as well.

So, I'm not ashamed that I wrote it, nor is it "a secret." However, barring being "that guy" who constantly posts links everywhere, I don't really have a reliable way for publicizing it.
>> No. 113993
>>113987
And here, I have the wrong picture. Oh, well, same forest either way.
>> No. 114007
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114007
A few excerpts from an old S/S story I wrote about nine months ago where they get shrunk:

The firefly lifted off, elytra splayed out at a steep angle. Snips and Snails screamed as the insect roared into the night with her abdomen glowing at full intensity and with Snips still stuck to her left forewing. Snips vomited, and the white of the half-digested snail egg streaked aft along the leathery surface of the elytron.

“Snips! Hold on!”

“What does it look like I’m doing!” Snips coughed.

With the wind rushing past him and the surface beneath his hooves vibrating wildly, Snips stepped nervously down towards the thorax where Snails sat waiting, still visibly shaken and shivering. The firefly cleared the grass, ascended beyond the height of the road marker, and buzzed away out over the meadow at full speed. By the time Snips and Snails had regrouped and regained composure, neither of them could distinguish where they had come from or where they were going. They peered at the dimly-lit landscape of grass and shubs that stretched out below and around them, but the road marker was either out of their line-of-sight or too far away to distinguish.


I blame the concoction I was under the influence of for the above writing. I was taking it while recovering from a sore throat caused by a cold that knocked me out for damn near a week. Jim Beam, lemon juice, honey and hot water. Did the trick.
>> No. 114019
>>113987
what do you mean by, "a huge lapse in judgment with its releasability"?
>> No. 114024
>>114019
Writing a story as a gift for someone doesn't mean that the rest of the world is interested or harbors any desire to read it.
>> No. 114037
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114037
Heh, I could post a scene here that perfectly fits the thread criteria, but I'd get banned for it, again. You all know the one I'm talking about.
>> No. 114041
File 134365892076.png - (133.97KB , 900x792 , fluttershy_squee_by_officer_rabbit-d4exinj.png )
114041
>>114037
I don't. E-mail, plz?
[email protected]
>> No. 114043
>>114037

A Special Mare? Oh nooooooooooo.
>> No. 121020
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121020
Just wrote this one a little over an hour ago. Had to scrap it because it didn't allow for the second half of the scene to flow smoothly, and other obvious reasons.



It was a boring day, dull, uneventful as ever. Nothing ever seemed to happen during his shift; he was just counting the minutes until he could go home to his wife and foals. The palace was empty, as was the courtyard, just like every other drab and dreary day in Upper Canterlot.

Why doesn’t anything ever happen? He shook his head and ruffled his feathers an attempt to stay awake. Please let something happen soon?

As if in response an electrical charge of some sort could be heard crackling to his right. His eyes widened; he hadn’t expected something to actually happen. Turning slowly to his left, the guard pony beheld a growing ball of light with tiny shards of lightning coming off of it. As the glowing orb grew in size and intensity it suddenly brightened in a blinding white flash.

When the light faded—and the guard pony ceased seeing stars—he could see a figure standing where the light used to be. And if things could get no worse, the figure also appeared not to be equine. It was tall, thin, and strangest of all: stood on two legs. She—for it appeared to be female—wore a green upper garment and loose brown leggings over dark tan fur, and sported a dark brown mane that reached forward in two thick tails.

It let out a few squeaks. He gulped. “Um, hello? Who are you, and what are you doing here?” he spat out in as best an authoritative tone as he could.

The bizarre figure turned to him, forelegs curled in an almost adorable fashion. More sqeakage.
He put out a hoof.

“Alright, alright stop. That actually hurts.”
>> No. 121021
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121021
>>121020
>waiting for somepony to point out the obvious error that was written in for the sole purpose of getting a kick out of anypony that noticed.
>> No. 121314
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121314
>>121021
... Don't know if i should feel stupid but I do.

For the life of me i can't find anything really wrong except this line.

He shook his head and ruffled his feathers an attempt to stay awake.

I assume there is supposed to be an 'in' in there.

... Actually, now that I take a closer look, you say he heard a noise to his right, but he turns to his left.
>> No. 121384
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121384
>>121314
Heehee. Yup, that was it.
>> No. 121400
>>121384
yah! i'm somewhat intelligent!
>> No. 121415
File 134937169739.gif - (277.10KB , 496x400 , 140349 - animated pinkie_pie writing.gif )
121415
I actually just finished cutting an entire chapter. Luckily I hadn't gotten much further than the planning and fleshing out phase,but what felt like was going to be a solid chapter ended up feeling more like filler than anything. I was rather excited for it too because I had all of these cool ideas floating around for it but, In the end it just wasn't going to work. Luckily i came up with a cool idea for a replacement Chapter that will help set the mood much better going forward.

Dont know if this counts towards the original theme of the thread but felt like sharing either way.
>> No. 121476
File 134939947331.png - (56.00KB , 159x177 , lucy.png )
121476
I've got something.

I wrote this "Author's Note" as a way of introducing my satirical comedy story, "the chess master". I'm a big fan of dry humor, and one of the challenges of presenting my story has been getting myself across, comedically speaking; the idea of the author's note was to "let people in on the joke" and give the reader an idea of my comic voice. In the end, I scrapped it, as it made the story feel somewhat conceptually bombastic, in addition to being "out there."

It's deliberately over-long, involved, and meant to satirize those stupid, apologetic author's notes you often see less confident writers use.

Author’s Note: This is my first attempt at writing a “serious” pony fic. If my mother is to be believed, it is “complete garbage, through and through”—characters wildly OOC (she says), with a premise likely to have been conceived by a third grader (if she didn’t know any better), and so forth. However, despite these harsh critiques, I have decided to post it online, for the perusal and subsequent condemnation of a more disinterested (I refuse to be like you, mother) audience. What’s the harm in getting some constructive criticism, right?
Actually, I have a good reason for writing it.
You see, sometime during the weeks leading up to Bronycon 2012, Hasbro announced its “Best Night Ever” competition, where the winners were to get all-expense-paid trips to the convention as well as a private dinner with Friendship is Magic creator, Lauren Faust. The contest was this: Participants were to organize local meet-ups with their friends and other fans of the show, and demonstrate their appreciation with a group photo—banners, cosplay, and creative use of merchandise were all encouraged. The best photos passed the qualifying round, and the triumphant groups were then informed via e-mail that they had entered the “winner’s bracket”. The e-mail also indicated that only one person from each group could receive the grand prize, and that the second part of the contest, therefore, was for each group member to explain why they, and not their friends, were the most deserving of it.
It wasn’t difficult for me to make it through this final phase of the competition. Several of my chums, though “willing to pose with [their] Rainbow Dash plushies [for the world to see],” showed trepidation at the thought of “going to New Jersey” (I myself had once been stranded in Newark as a lad, thanks to an incompetent flight attendant, and had inured myself to its hardships during that stay); it became merely a matter of using the technique of argument to undercut and sabotage the image of some supposed ‘friends’, and I was already on my way.
The operation was very secretive. Somehow, the facilitators in connection with the contest were able to ascertain my travel and lodging information, and slipped a note under my hotel room door on the evening before the first day of the con. The note revealed the whereabouts of a liaison who was to guide myself and the other winners of the contest to the secret location of Lauren Faust, at an appointed time; this later turned out to be where the ‘fic’ discussion panel was taking place, only there was nothing in the space but a gigantic brick wall with a wooden door.
The liaison led me down a long flight of stairs to a kind of bunker, secured behind a steel door, where Faust and the other winners were already waiting. I was seated between a man in an Applejack costume and agreeable-looking fellow who had apparently been stranded at the hotel, and had arrived here out of sheer luck. Like myself, the other guests had come unprepared without dinner, and so we watched Lauren Faust eat her pot roast in polite silence; she had a box of wine, and appeared to be flushed in the face.
We ate in silence, or rather, she ate while we watched her in silence, until the gentleman in the Applejack costume spoke up from behind his mask:
“That’s a really nice sweater, Ms. Faust,” he said.
Lauren Faust put down her fork and grinned—a wry, contemptuous grin—before turning to us and replying:
“You know why I got into animation, kid?”
None of us had an answer. We waited uncomfortably for her to continue, listening to the clock tick on the blank wall.
“You enjoyed doing it as a child…?” I ventured to reply.
Lauren Faust sniggered to herself. She leaned over and scooped up a bucket, and spit a wayward bone fragment from her pork roast into it. Then, emptying her wine glass, she took the wine box and poured another round (I presumed that she would of offered some to us, as well, if we had been thoughtful enough to bring wine glasses).
“Because my mother forced me to,” she said, slurring some of her words.
“I’ve been there, sister,” I replied.
“I thought that My Little Pony would be my ticket out of this industry. I mean, come on, it’s My Little freaking Pony! Who could possibly take that seriously? You may as well try to write a novel based on Polly Pocket. And now look at me! Eating dinner in a basement with a guy in a horse costume. You people disgust me.”
At this speech, I felt a pang of shame for all the enjoyment I had gotten from the show—and, I was certain I would be able to perceive it in the face of my companion, if only I could see past the Applejack mask.
Lauren Faust went on to explain that, like Bob Dylan, she had gone through an “Angry Young Man” period while she was writing episodes for the show.
“During late nights by myself at the studio, I would begin to get weird, surreal ideas. I wanted Applejack and Rainbow Dash to encounter a family of elk, and be thrown into an existential crisis by a pony who was raised by the elk.”
“Bizarre indeed,” I concurred.
“But here’s what I really wanted to do…”
She reached down into a tote bag she was keeping under her seat and produced a stack of bound papers—a script—and let it fall on the table with a slap. I leaned over to look at it.
“ ‘the chess master’. Huh.”
“I always hated Rainbow Dash,” she began with relish. “Well, I hate all the characters, but Rainbow Dash in particular. I based her off this girl I went to school with, hoping that the viewing public would find her as annoying as I did—but irony is a double-edged sword.”
“I hear that,” the Applejack guy said.
“Quiet you!” Lauren Faust hollered at him, smashing the wine glass down on the table. “So I thought to myself—how can I make her more obnoxious, more irritating, and just less lovable?


fin
>> No. 121477
>>121476
Hmm... formatting probably could've come out better on that. Oh well, sorry all!
>> No. 121481
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121481
>>121476
Gotta say i enjoyed that.

On a side note I'm surprised this thread has survived. Thought it would have faded into obscurity.
>> No. 121529
>>121476

That was beautiful.
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