Sandra 'Flakes' Timpany entered the bar with a coiled whirl of street dust swozzling her fetlocks before skitting upon the floor boards with a camp swoon. 'How's the form?' asked a passing waitress without warmth or humour...or passing... there she stood mouth agape and tip winning ways prominently vying for a tent peg... tension.. ATtention. 'Fine' said Sandra, although she soon wozzleIs it right that every mum's favourite vampire heart throb has gone and landed his on screen missus in the family way?
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