Once again, Little Hawk and Rapp combine their talents to litter the sacred dusty halls of MOAB with calumny, falsehood, and recalcitrant perversity of spirit. 'T was ever thus, alas.

I have THREE pumpkins to carve this day, and a summer sausage and bread to prepare, and a table of delights to lay out for my guests this evening who will gather with bass, guitar, banjo and mandolin to celebrate the company of said Stampfel. I have no time for the querulous quibbling of quiescent quislings.



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