He came to punish me for my wicked ways, cuttin' off my parole bracelet, goin' on wild pop-up parapateos, praying too much at St. Mattress and acting all hair-et-tickle. Alas, in fear for my mortal soul, I made the sign of the cub scouts and screamed "Ba'hai You Hairy Assed Pot Roast!" And lo, he did retreat.
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