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American McGee's Honda Civic
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I thought the barn looked awesome.
[quote name="Zseni"]It needed bundles of herbs tied to the rafters, drying. McMoo strolls in, his crisply flowing poet's shirt open to his navel (itself a jewel set in the stony ripples of his powerful abdomen,) his tight black breeches flecked with morsels of hay and Queen Anne's Lace seeds - the young master has been for his afternoon constitutional. Arrogant, dejected, he kicks the tires of his unhappy car. His calfskin boots slouch; the rear bumper plummets from the beater. McMoo tosses his mane of abjectly silken hair back. "Piece of junk," he mutters, viciously. "Why did my damned father have to spend all our family's fortune?" But McMoo would never dream of selling so much as a hand's span of his ancestral estate - despite the covetous leerings and generous offers of his dastardly next door neighbor, Dr. Laudable Puss. Dr. Puss.... just thinking of the damned man was enough to set McMoo's blood boiling. When will that damned fellow learn the meaning of the word "no" - when would he cease pestering and cajoling one who was clearly not to be pestered or cajoled? And why did he have to be so deuced <i>handsome</i> - with his keen eyes, broad shoulders, and sardonic, yet full, lips?[/quote]