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Today was going to be a good day, Oz could feel it. But you had to dress appropriately for good days, so, whistling a jaunty, sibilant tune though his fangs, sunglasses perched on his slightly distended muzzle, he carefully used his claws to slash a hole in his dress pants.

Because a cramped tail was only going to distract him from what was important. Namely the rending of flesh and slaking of thirst with sweet, sweet blood.


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thefearwasreal

July 2013

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