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FROM THE MIND OF FULTONBEFREE [formerly
known as Durand Fulton]
A DUDE FROM
THE ILLUMINATI WANTS
BLOOD,
THE PRESIDENT HAS A SECRET
AGENDA,
AND A KICK-*SS
AGENT IS TRYING
TO KILL THE F*CKING
BAD GUYS.

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Upon entering the box, as Chief Custodian
Barns once called it, the smell of stench was
so remorseless that a tear dripped down Agent
Johnsons good eye. Every second that went by
felt like 10 minutes swimming in a bowl of hot
sh*t. The box was a large, dirty, and hard to
navigate office that featured a large alcove.
Johnson, at this point, knew that the smell had
to be coming from something on the inside of
the alcove space.
THIS IS YA LAST MUTHAF*CKIN CHANCE
B*TCHES. Come out with your hands up, now! I am
armed.
Nothing. The only thing that seemed to move
was Johnsons heartbeat, quickly and
intensely. With two hands now, she gripped the

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******. F*ck it! Three Two... One... She
turned into the alcove
The pistol fell to the floor. He *ss was a
close second. The shock in her eyes said it
all.

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Whatcanaya do for me, Mista Lucky
Genius? Ima askin for allaya help. Pleeze
tellame whatya condo fer me.
Mister Lucky Genius took out what appeared
to be fat bl*nt. He lit the bl*nt and then
proceeded to smoke it. Not once did he even
appear to offer any of the bl*nt to Bundy
Kingston.
Bundy. I want to give you an offer you
cant refuse. It is true. I am the Lucky
Genius. At any time, I could just snap my
fingers just like that. And all of your
problems would go away. The only problem,
however, is that if I cant use you for
something, then why should I do you any favors,

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Bundy? You get what Im saying, right? That
just makes sense.
Ill do anything ya ask of me, Mista
Lucky Genius.
Well Im glad to hear it, boy. Im glad
to hear it very well.
I have some *ssociates that I used to do
business with on the other side of the harbor.
They are pieces of sh*t, Bundy. They dont
believe in doing business with people. In their
minds, they think that stealing from other
people is business. I need you to show them
that stealing from people is de*th by fat*l
executi*n, Bundy. And I need you to show them
as slowly and as painfully as their life can
possibly stand, Bundy. Do you get what Im
sayin?




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Now looke here. I have the utmost respect for
you Mr. President. You just need to understand
that those orders are not going to make any
sense to my men if I have to evacuate this
facility.
Johnson. Shut the f*ck up, Now! I am
President Kirtpatrick. Listen to me explain my
self-important professional bullsh*t: Before
being President, I served 15 years as a Navy
Seal. Ten years after that, I served under a
cl*ssified code kissing the bosses *ss and
backstabbing my colleagues so I could get
another self-important promotion. You dont
know sh*t about what you are talking about
Johnson. As President of the United States of
Americorp, I order you to evacuate the building

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now! Evacuate the building now or everyone in
our Pentagon family is going to die! Ka-boom!
Right in the f*ckin face! Do you get it???
Mr. President, I dont know what the
h*ll you are talking about. So help me god if
you are wrong. So help me god.




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Usually on Thursday nights, the ball field
was what youd call a spicy hangout joint
for the old-timers who wanted to remember their
old days of kick-*ss glory in the senior
league. Mmm. There was a change of plans
tonight, though. All senior games have been
cancelled for the evening. I guess you can say
bye-bye to that sh*t. Haha. The reason? Its
just business, man. Dirty, sc*m rotten,
muthaf*ckin business.
As for those helicopters... well, there
was I think approximately 12 soldiers
*ssigned to this here operation. It was ah
whats the word? Cl*ssified, muthaf*cka! Haha.
That order, apparently, came down from the
highest lewd-tenant of command. Now, if any one

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of those X-caliber super bad-*ss soldiers gets
popped in their f*ckin face cavity and then
goe bye-bye to cop a squat for the night, their
true death would be strategically erased
from all computer records at intel special
forces.
Instead of carrying their standard issue
United States Firearms for the night, the
soldiers were instructed to carry a f*ckin
highly unstable, yet specially designed
tranquilizer automatic gatling turbo blaster
shotty wit da muthaf*ckin rubber grip. I
say, Ohh my lawd!!! Godd*mn what kinda
f*ckin gun is that muthaf*ckin sh*t!!!
But anyways, their orders were crystal clear,
baby girl. Dude told them, Dont kill the
target under any circumstances. How the h*ll
could they mess that thang up? Sh*t would have
seemed easy to a family of f*ckups.



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Jesus. It cant beit can only mean one
thing then. Bundy Kingston. And why did the
President contact you instead of me? I am your
superior.
Well, sir. You used to be my superior. I
am the superior now. That is what the President
said.
Son-of-a-b*tch. He is using you. This
whole thing is a set-up from the highest level.
Something very bad is going to happen.

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Just so you are informed, President
Kirtpatrick was only the president known to the
general public and military. To those with much
higher access, though, it was obviously known
that President Kirtpatrick was a brainwashed
puppet. As far as the elite order was
concerned, President Kirtpatrick was
technically brain dead.
Area ** is the name of the specific
location where the presidential selects are
programmed, frozen, and stored until they are
green lighted for a presidency *ssignment. I
wish I could tell you that the facilities were
run by the most elite scientists in the world
but that bull-dookie is hogwash. Weve been
bamboozled! Hoodwinked! There aint a

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scientist in this world, nor a Warcraft expert,
who has the occult knowledge and power to
conduct a presidential conspiracy like that.
Truth be told, the


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She saw the gunslingers footsteps heading
towards her through the thick and dark fog. Her
screams began to grow larger and larger. If
***** was alive, ******* would be crying at the
sight of ******** and ***** pitiful *ss.
The gunslingers feet were inches away
from ******* mouth.
Be-otch I said, Get UP!!
******8* was lifted up. The gunslinger must
weight a ton. They now stood eye to eye. The
entire room was silent. ******* opened her eyes
slowly and as she searched for clarity beyond
the snot and vomit on her face, she saw the
gunslingers face. She was horrified.

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I..knnn know whhhh who yyy you are, now.
You are ********************************, my
step sister.
B*TCH I SAY THAT YOU ARE GOING TO DIE
RIGHT NOW!! DIE B*TCH DIE!!!!!
No!!!! NOOO!!!! Stop that. It hurts!!!!
DIE B*TCH DIE!!!
STOP IT HURTS!! STOP IT HURTS!!
BIITTTCCC..

FOR THE FULL VERSION OF
AMERICAN HOT SAUCE RELOADED
VISIT FULTONBEFREE.ORG

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