Weekly Challenge: 3 hundred something, I think. Topic, a whole bunch of stuff, hopefully I’ll get ot most of it without swearing.

“Then search for that ounce of humanity left within me!” I screamed on top of my lungs.  I pointed the gun directly at the skull of the SOB who just let my dogs out of their kennels, the former mongrel rescues now run the streets free, hell bent on being wild and never coming back to my loving home.  What a circus, but my hostage, desperate to avoid bursting into flames, dared to mention that I failed to mention anything about a pet rock, so I pulled the trigger, and my hostage was dead before his body hit the floor.

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