"Who dares titter in that dark, damp corner?" The custodian's voice bored into our skulls, his resonating baritone striking fear deep in our bones. We had disobeyed his his eight-and-a-half by eleven warning -- a ragged piece of copy paper he'd branded in Sharpie with the words "KEEP OUT" and an embarrassing number of exclamation points. And we were now going to pay the price.
Non sequitir:
*titters
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There once was a woman who lived in a shoe.