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...and I named him Herb. It just seemed appropriate.
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And Herb must have had a touch of the stomach flu because when we walked by him, his innards began to make a horrendous noise. There was gurgling. And sloshing. And an overall feeling that something was not right in Herb's world.
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The only thing I could think was I needed to take cover. Stat. I mean all that water in that hump has to go somewhere, right?
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By miracle of miracles, Herb began to relax and the monstrous noises from the deep recesses within began to subside. It must have been my charming personality that won him over.
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But Herb still chose to ignore us.
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He's a little high maintenance like that.
Taking cover was smart. They spit.
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