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Chask


Cha

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You know, my faithful ward, I must inquire something that has been trapped in my mind for as long as I could imagine. Spongebob calls me a Mystery, in which the name gives me sole property of. The one dude who just spontaneously blew up the other day, along with his friend, called me a Kiddie Ride whilst he tried to insert a quarter into one of my own uncomfortable spots. The skin-flinted boss of the Krusty Krab, Mr. Krabs, calls me a horse. Then there's this big nose co-worker, Squidward with the bowl of onions who calls me by another preferred name "Sir Eats-a-Lot." Then there's the master of clap who called me Debbie. To make a clear interrogation, why must so many nicknames surface upon me?

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