It was a dark and stormy night. Thunder rumbled, rain fell. Lightning
flashed, illuminating the old, haunted house in which--some say--a witch
dwells. Or a bitch. Inside the house, a titanic battle raged on. Our
heroine was on the staircase, waging war with a pair of huge, metal
cabinets. It was a life or death struggle. The cabinets rumbling
shelves matched the din of the storm outside. At times, when she was
pinned against the wall at the bottom of the stairs by the monstrous,
dusty beasts, it seemed as if the battle would be lost. But finally,
with great effort (and only minor wall damage), our heroine prevailed!
The terrible cabinets were vanquished, and moved to a small back room,
where they would be forced to resume their duties of storing family
photo albums and other knick-nacks. The day was won.
I am so friggin sore.
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