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Ogres can make French Toast?
Are you shitting me? They have gray sweatpants in his secluded wilderness village?
Hopefully, a leech won’t crawl into my vagina.
“Aw, that’s so cute. Your Stockholm Syndrome has already developed only after a week.”
“Take me. I’m yours!”
“You taste like mine!”
“I love you.” Oh, fuck.
“No, Liona. You can’t love me. I captured you.”
“You can’t make me leave!” I yell to him.
“So, you’re fucking your sister,”
“I could have fucked an entire football team, and it wouldn’t even hold a candle to the fact that you are having sex with your sister!”
No, I’m lonely for one person only. Of course, that person is an ogre. My ogre. Beck.
How can you be happy in my swamp?”
“It’s not just a swamp. It’s a swamp with you. How can I be happy with anything less?”

