fred flintstone fucking dies

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Charlie:

Schlatt: LMAO

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Schlatt: LMAO

Charlie: The distinct taste of Fred Flintstone vitamins lingers on my tastebuds like the gooey dew clinging to the St. Augustine lawn clippings on a moist Monday morning.
As I stand in the dark field, I wonder what my flavor will be my last.
"M-maybe it'll be grape... dino-shaped too."
I stare down at the pile of edibles in the palm of my hand, taking in the sweet scent of freedom.
"Goodbye, world." I think to myself, swallowing every flavor of every last Flintstone whole simultaneously.

Ted: Goodness fucking gracious

Charlie: I rise from my deathly slumber for a moment to thank you. "Thank you," I say gratefully. I then fall to the ground once more.

Ted: Are you making this up?

Charlie: I give you a face that you can see in your mind. Your mind's eye can see me, making the face of the face that I am making at this time. At this moment, you know what I am thinking, but not off the top of your head.
Not that one, at least.

Ted: How do I even respond to this

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