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Completely free stories
Mr. Drumchild on 15 E. Sycamore is quite the storyteller, and is more than happy to share his tales with anyone. He was in the war, so they are quite insightful and riddled with historic anecdotes. His one-of-a-kind wit is both shockingly sharp and delightfully ribald. He's quite the treasure!
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If you go to Old Lady Ethel's house, you can help yourself to all sorts of living aids. I don't think she can even get out of bed, so there are all sorts of crutches and canes and walkers and stuff you can just go in and take. The place smells awful, but she never makes a sound. She just stays in that backroom all day.
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Just stop by Ms. Roseweather's house on Sunday to get some free cookies. She's so lonely she doesn't even find it odd when strangers knock on her door asking for cookies. Just be warned, her jerk son Alan comes by often. He's really rude and always asking what you're doing there. The last time I went for cookies he was hanging out the whole time and kept asking his mom to borrow money. It made me sick. She's barely getting by and this jerk wants to borrow money. I hate when people exploit the elderly.
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Triple your haul with this simple strategy
FIRST, walk down Palm St any Saturday morning. Chances are you'll see Old Man D'Arensbourg sitting on his lawn. Say something like "Howdy Old Timer!" and he'll strike up a conversation. If you mention you're hungry, he'll invite you inside for some cereal. If you ask nicely he'll let you take a whole box.
NEXT, walk three houses over to Mr. Potasky's yard. He'll probably be fiddling with a toaster, which is a primo conversation starter. He'll probably ask you where you got the cereal, and you tell him that Old Man D'Arensbourg gave it to you. Mr. Potasky hates Mr. D'Arensbourg, and will call him a dumb son of a bitch and say the cereal has worms in it. He'll usually offer you some cereal of his own.
FINALLY, hide Old Man D'Arensbourg's cereal in some bushes. Then walk back to Old Man D'Arensbourg and tell him Mr. Potasky called him a dumb son of a bitch and said his cereal has worms in it. He'll start fuming, and that's when you make your move. Tell him Mr. Potasky gave you a box of cereal that doesn't have worms in it. He'll get mad, go inside, and fetch another box of cereal.
Boom! You just got yourself three free boxes of cereal. Been doing this every Saturday for six months without fail.
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Sometimes I dream that I'm sitting in the back of the defunct Weinermobile as it careens driverless down the highway. At first I thought this was symbolic of the powerlessness I feel in life, but then I realized it's actually the Weinermobile's dream of being able to drive again.
Three years ago, when we were burying my uncle, Cleaver and some gross lady dog (Solstice???) showed up at the cemetery and starting going at it really loudly. It ruined everything and we had to have a "re-do" the next day and it cost a fortune. I've hated him ever since for that.
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