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The Toonacular Store
hidden away on a dead-end street of Manhattan is the Toonacular Store where I went the other day needing some words for a comic strip I was drawing “whatta ya have?” quacked the duck behind the counter “well,” said I, “I could use some PLOPS and I think aome SPLATS too. some ZAPS some ZIPS KERPLUNKS BLOOPS a WHOOSH a BAM two BOOMS three SLURPS four WHOOPS and a WACK a WHA!? a KAZOOM maybe some POWS and an OOPS! if you have one” “and while you’re at it see if you have any grawlixes” “well,” he said, “we have &#%@&%!s “ and we have @%?&#@!s which will it be?” gee, they pretty much sound the same to me” “hump!,” he sneered arrogantly,, looking at me over his half-moon specs, “if you were a true connoisseur you would be able to tell the difference” in the shop surrounded by props instant holes, neck hooks rubber banana peels Undeadly bombs knock-out drops triple Xed whiskey bottles exploding cigars doors that open to nowhere flat red hearts floating in space plus a big stuffed ominously smiling pink bunny it was no surprise to find my change given in funny money XXX pepe nero |
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