And so concludes my Labor Day Weekend of reviewing this lousy book. Doing these things once a day is kind of rough, but it's worth it to get to the halfway point in a little over a month.
OK, confession time. I paid them all to endorse the worst book so you'd be stuck reading it.
Yes, I've done far worse than kill you, Mike. I've hurt you. And I wish to go on...hurting you. I shall leave you marooned for all eternity at the middle of a crummy book. Buried alive. Buried aliiiiive.
At this point, I'm seriously beginning to thing Five is the best one, simply because everyone else hates it so much. Either that or it's some kind of black hole of suck, because I can't imagine it getting much duller than this. Maybe if Rowling wrote in 1337-speak.
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Yes, I've done far worse than kill you, Mike. I've hurt you. And I wish to go on...hurting you. I shall leave you marooned for all eternity at the middle of a crummy book. Buried alive. Buried aliiiiive.
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(Though seriously, I'd rather be marooned *there* than on, say, Ceti Alpha V?)
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(Eww.)
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There. And reading the whole book is like that. Owie.
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