Long ago there was a man named Ned. All day long he sat on
his bed. His head was all crooked, malformed and askew so good ol’ Ned whipped
up a new brew. Now the potion he drank had a terrible stank, the kind they
could smell all the way to the bank. So the villagers came for the stench
through the fog. They climbed over rocks and over a bog. They went with
clenched fists through the mist and the fog. But when they arrived they found only
a dog.
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