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I saw something in the sky from a copse I was lounging in. It was a refulgent augean prosaic torus. It moved in front, behind, and through the clouds like a train. It chugged out a pendantic trail that resembled a vulgar verisimilitude myopic shoal. The air force sent a squadron of fighters after it. They were viscerally terse in their engagement. There was something conniving about what happened. When the missiles exploded the nonentity displayed a frisson dentition before deferentially streaking like a bolt of lightning toward the stars.
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