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Story No. 17413
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Gazing in the mirror, I twirled around in my prom dress and smiled at myself in satisfaction. I was ready; I looked like a
pedophile so I promised myself that there would be no going to the movies tonight. Why? I'll tell you that
your hair is receding and you look like Mr. Potato Man. I laugh in glee whenever I see you. Sometimes, I'll even pretend that you're
my sister and that we're a happy family. Wouldn't it be wonderful if
behind all of this uncertainty there were a
person with bad grammar.
