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Spirit Dancer
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I look at the footprints but no latent tracking talent gets awakened in me. It's like a semi-circle. No, semi-circle. Hooves? Hooves if there were no split toe. Hooves with shoes. Or just big shoes in that shape. I could try calling Ceo to ask if Mayor had any giant hooved feet all this time and I never noticed, but I'll follow these tracks while I think of how I could possibly phrase that question to Ceo without imploding.
"Wait a minute, the Gallsby I know doesn't know anything, and here you spotted tracks outta nowhere. Are you another layered ogre? Prove you're the real Gallsby, and tell me how big Villi's dick is."
>"I dunno Frillsby because I'm the real Gallsby and apparently the real Gallsby doesn't know anything so how would I know his dick is this long?!"
"Whatever, get down here so we can follow these tracks. They look like they're going away from the graveyard."
Gallsby leaps off the balcony, and gracefully somersaults onto the ground like a clump of seaweed.
"Why have you done this."
>"It was faster. Here's Villi's dick."
He draws a dick on the ground with his claw. It's a crude representation, but I could believe that's about the right size.
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