Had you not tattled on me, the money I’d have stolen from Mr. Poopendick would’ve made our dreams into entelechy…we’d have been half way to Bali, the keys to his mansion in one hand, the keys to his whorehouse in the other!
-Gladys Potter

As soon as I saw Mr. Poopendick’s floorplan blueprints and a list of his bank accounts slip out from under that old warthog’s skirt I knew her scheme to steal from him was an entelechy and not just some crazy dream she came up with while under the roofie I had given her – what? No. No need to tattle on me. I never gave her a roofie.

~Lady Schwartz

Johnson Poopendick came to the beautiful entelchy one day after his brother, Jonas Poopendick tattled on him for stealing all of the cookies–there was only room for one Poopendick in this town.

–Cindy Capleton

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One Response to Entelechy/tattle

  1. wrightless smalls says:

    With your sponsorship readers, my fantasies of eradicating the discrepancy upon my upper torso can become entelechy. I beg of you, send in a dollar towards making me look like I am not a masectomy victim, if you wish your donations can remain anonymous, no one will tattle on you for aiding those in need, mainly, carnival boob and her larger friend, almost normal AKA left eye.

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