The town of Wall stands today as it has stood for six hundred years, on a high jut of granite amidst a small forest woodland.
‘I hope,’ said Mr. Pickwick, ‘that our volatile friend is committing no absurdities in that dickey behind.’ ‘Oh dear, no,’ replied Ben Allen. ‘Except when he’s elevated, Bob’s the quietest creature breathing.’
“Great! A guy getting off a night shift who hasn't been laid in years finds his wife in flagrante with some hamburger-faced guy who hightails it out the front door in his underwear. We're walking into a hornet's nest, Jackson.”
The cause of your abrupt departure.
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