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You know I’d never lie to you. How could I?  It’s the Talls campfire and these are the oral-lit smoke trails that swirl about you, never to dribble drivel upon you.  You can be sure you’ll only get what’s inner-heard. I embellish you not.Surely you remember Wi, a name especially chosen to fit our attention spans? The world-record kidnappee, nabbee, swipee, snatchee, hoisted so many times even he’s lost count?  (How about that three times in five minutes effort?  That takes rare raw talent, that does.)  I mean, if it wasn’t for our Wi how many of these yabbers, yarns, shaggy dogs and yank-your-chain whoppers could I trot out for you?  Even getting across one’s not easy when it’s always against the wind from people laughing in your face. No, really, without our Wi, where would all the odd-balls be, drowning their sorrows by ingesting the food in Dominic’s Eatery, swallowing whole mouthfuls without a thought for their own safety? Would any plate get the Wi wipe and come out miraculously unscathed from what had been just laid upon it?  Without Wi, how many screwballs could have hired him to do all they’ve ever wanted to do?God knows, and the Talls say ‘God knows’ because, if you take it that God made him in His own image, then maybe you’ve stumbled across the one  time God spoke too soon.  Okay, setting that aside, coming to you is a cast of Lankan characters – and you’d cast too -- and barf, and burp – if you had some of Dominic’s food inside you, let’s not kid ourselves.  Not all of us have cast-iron guts and can absorb what could canonize you if you kept it downl.And our Wi can’t help being White, either. Did he ever ask for the hoists he’s had to suffer, or complained about the lack of duty-of-care his kidnappers have shown him -- their kidnappee, after all?  No. All he asked was a hideaway hig
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