The news was the town was blessed. It came at the best time. The town had been not happy, disarrayed in drunks and crossing-guards. The town needed a small advantage. They proceeded to plan a parade and crown a Queen. The choice was a no-brainer. The librarian had legs. Even soccer-moms acceded with minimal nasty, and one offered to decal her nails at a really substantial discount. They put her on a wide-load float, crushed her glasses, poofed her hair, and there she was. Angels of the Lord saw the town in all its glory, and the Queen saw two blurry fits of white before the town fell down (some air-borne mutagen). They suffered only moderately, which is to say— it did not take too long, the dying.
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