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Staszek the Strangler stalked silently,
Subdued, Selma sat in soft satin,
She stroked shining shocks of short silver,
Smoothly, serpentine strands slowly slackened.
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Sinister skills, surreptitiously,
Stifled Selma’s senescent, soft sighing,
A single squeeze seemly sufficient,
Stoic, Staszek stood soundlessly smiling.
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Buttercup's House 