My Fighting Hole - An Experience to Remember

It was a wet day, like today. They had been up to their knees in cold muddy waters for hours on end waiting for the elusive three-legged furry white Puffle Dump with one big red eye to emerge from the duck pond.

Sweat drips from their brow as they each take turns peering over the muddy fighting hole towards the pond graced by dancing Umpaloompa’s

Who would be the one to come, face to eye with the Puffle Dump? Which one would be pulled from the hole screaming for their wife or mother or their favorite pair of stinky sneakers.

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I know, WTF, right?

Don’t mind me, I’ll just be over there —>
Like, way over there.

If you can gather some stinky underwear and dreg socks from the ammo pile, I am beginning to run out of filth ammo

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