And there's the pitch. Snargle Whitley has blocked the throw. Onto Phip Dudsnip, he's running, but his faceplate has fallen off. Rotten luck
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Surprising events, folks! The players, stadium, and announcers are all coalescing into a quivering singularity. ThegoldwasnotpureTHEGOLDWASN
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!dennabnu namstocS htiw yalp eht eunitnoc ot dediced sah licnuoC ehT .esrever ni gnineppah si gnihtyrevE .delevarnu sah ytiralugnis ehT !woW
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