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Fantastic word game

The light switch in the hayloft turned on at 5am, a redneck wearin' a Stetson hat stood there with a scowl firmly etched across his mug as he peered at the large crate he'd ordered earlier in the week readin' "Explosive - Danger" on the exterior, n' just as he goes to open the crate this morning, a little Ziploc sandwich baggie was found left out by the once heifer-filled stall marked "with love - the boudoir" n' forced me to change my day's itinerary.

Y'all really are somethin' special up there in the land o' maple syrup, I'll tell you what. Tip o' the hat yer way, fer sure.
 
My day's itinerary includes trips to the supermarket, the post office, and of course a look inside the freezer of doom.

I really need to take inventory. I know there's a pound o' ground round in there just waiting to be turned into my next meal. Not sure what else has found its way in there.
 
Inside the freezer of doom (of which I reckon oughta be properly capitalized given it's been recognized as an o-fficial title within the game) really shoulda been the final level in Altered Beast.

If'n y'know, y'know. I played a lotta Sonic, too.
 
The final level in Altered Beast, in addition to being an ending clue here at The Fantastic Word Game (TFWG as some, but definitely not all, prefer), has now been associated with Ed's Freezer of Doom (FoD as some may prefer).

There. It's been capitalized. Happy? :)
 
Ed's Freezer of Doom (FoD as some may prefer) has already been referred to as FoD or FOD several times in the past few weeks which tells me that certain people are just not paying as much attention as they should.

And if you are paying attention, you know that it's Friday night, the weekend is here, and tomorrow night brings another 80s Rockfest at the new Illusions. The lovely young library interns, plus the Denny-sponsored and permanently-guarded mechanical bull, are scheduled to be on hand with some fantastic goodies and to welcome patrons in for a great rockin' time. Join us in person or via the huge PowerWorld livestream. Later on, join us early Sunday morning at Denny's where kenny will be cooking up some great grub. Have a great weekend!
 
Certain people are just not paying as much attention as they should to serious news for a couple of days now, instead soaking up all the coverage they can of the cheating couple who were "outed" during a Coldplay concert.
 
Your significant other really kinda deserves to be in another's embrace, if'n he or she has such a low taste in music that would allow fer a pair o' Coldplay er Nickelback tickets to ever be held in their hands.

I reckon someone just dodged a big ol' bullet right there.
 
Anyone and everyone playin' n' looky-looin' this here game knows full-well that they have just witnessed another instance o' Mayflower-inspired crispy endings.

A tip o' the hat, good sir, fer never disappointin' yer audience. 👍
 
Overuse here at The Fantastic Word Game (TFWG as some, but not all, prefer) comes from using the same ending clue over and over and over and over.
 
Over and over and over and over again, I use the same themes for my clues just to get rosecity's goat which, in this case, does not refer to any type of farm animal.

I would like to thank my good friend, Ed, for constantly referencing TFWG (as I prefer) in almost every single one of his contributions. (y) Somehow, THAT doesn't bother you, rosecity.
 
Alive n' breathin' in a couple o' lungfuls o' fresh country air this mornin', I'm here to tell each n' ev'ry one o' you fine folks that I ain't about to let WMC get my goat, considerin' he's already attempted n' failed a farm animal o' mine with his rudimentary romancing skills.


You ain't foolin' no one, Mayflower. It ain't done to get my goat, Ed's freezer, a handful o' CT's gummies, er a blessin' from the Padre's pulpit. It's just all you got, partner. I realize it, others here realize it, heck for, the little critters roamin' 'round the surface o' Mars realize it.

We all know it's yer wheelhouse, we just reckon you oughta put a feather duster n' a rag full o' Pledge to work fer the place.

Ed ain't considered no confounded polecat in these here parts, either. If'n he wants to incorrectly call this here place TFWG, that's on him. I just reckon he's done gone n' stuck his head inside the Freezer o' Doom one too many times n' froze his own brain matter. It's the only excuse I can come up with fer him continuously abbreviatin' it wrong.
 
His rudimentary romancing skills were on full display on that fateful night in the hayloft when the RCM "Kiss Cam" caught him with his arms wrapped lovingly around the udder of a certain now-deceased farm animal and showed their embrace on the Jumbotron screen for all the other critters to see.

It was on the front page of the Tyler Telegraph, too, right under the review of the Coldplay concert at the ranch.
 
See what I've done gone n' started?

Uhh... Linguistics Czar. It's the Tyler Morning Telegraph, a Texas-sized service o' Carpenter Media Group. Not that I'm pluggin' 'em er anything.

You might oughta wake up Kayla n' have her give you one across the chops fer not havin' any bolded skills this mornin', either. Postin' pre-coffee/pre-gummy, ain't ya?
 
The turd stink coming from the bathroom made him think, "I really need to pick up some Glade air freshener."
 


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