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(The following curious document was found in a Piel's bottle washed up on Staten Island. It was unsigned and apparently written in great haste.---J.S.)
I HAVE a rather difficult confession to make. This has been bothering me for some time now, and I might as well spill it before it backs up and really clogs my pipes worse than ever. It has to do with how I am and how I came to be this way. The comforting part of this simple exposition of frailties is that I do not stand alone...
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