White bread sat at a bar with rum, sipping it slowly and chewing on gum. He tugged at his collar and spotted tie gear, saying aloud it's a toasty in here. Then he heard something not in play, 'what the fuck, the fuck you just say?' Two other slices rolled up on his flanks, not happy at all, not looking for thanks. White bread knew that he'd insulted these toasts, and now he'd receive a merited riposte. So careful what you say on unknown terrain, this world is not white but great multigrain.


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