The Perils Of Alcohol.


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The Perils Of Alcohol

I didn’t want to hurt you.

I gave you plenty of warnings, didn’t you hear?

I wept a little, as I looked down at the corpses.

Of the slugs, in my trap, made from beer.

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Gastropub?


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Gastropub?

Nearly deaf Dave, accepted my invitation.

To dine, cordon bleu, like a god.

“You promised a posh pub meal!” he argued, to prostration,

As he tucked into another gastropod.