*out by the lake, there is a little old man in a green fedora hat, lemon yellow gloves, and a fishing pole. He's on a rock that overlooks the lake enough that his fishing pole can easily go into the depths without him having to wade in, leaning against a tree and smoking a cigarillo. There is a hawk in the tree above him
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[I am crestfallen]
[except I don't have a crest, oops]
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... Polly want a rotting cow carcass?
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[not that I noticed, anyway]
[...then again, whether or not I'd notice if I was pissing blood is rather up to debate]
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[being a naked hobo who eats roadkill doesn't do wonders for my health anyway you realize]
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