The Long Story of Nonsense

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There were no soldiers left.

alive, anyway.

but now the ice queen had to feast upon the freshly-preserved corpses of her own kin in this harsh wintery wasteland, as punishment for her own greed.

     But she needed a cook that could help her turn these henchmen she had fattened up with glorious pizza fats into a glorious banquet of the most exquisite dishes imaginable. But who could accomplish this task?

She knew who to trust:

I’m Couguhl‘s tulpa!



“Now I know why they have [self-]bans!” -Me

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