Two Clashing Crowds

-How now, gentlemen? Allow us to introduce our regiment: Rainer, Jobe, Eustice, Prang, Ollie, Watkins diddling somewhere near the middle, Hotchkins and for myself, I am Boyd. What is your choice grand fellows? Can you support your outrageous argument in barrel-rolling Eustice?

(Enter Malachi, Fergeson, Taft, Issac and others.)

-Most honorably Boyd. Our collected voids most urgently show indecency in Eustice. His own frail character and failing will pronounced a definte lowliness by folding chains onto our dearest brother Beu. As growing ceased, so did the knowledge leaves. Uphold his melancholy air, in place of earlier matters where Beu bellowed joyous sentences to any who cared to listen. Now, that admiring quality has faded. Beu no longer shows true color. The etchings are dulled in neither or the other. A true believer is something, but Beu is left wanting more. “Who sets history’s score?” he once asked. The vilest villainy of Eustice’s virtues veritably defiled Beu’s self-worth. Judgemental action should be placed favoring Beu’s own philosophy. Shall you let Eustice follow groveling upon gravel? His subject matter is despising. My finger shall pluck the camel with the little lonely needle of the hay stacked group. Pointed finger falls on Eustice. Fin.

Two Clashing Crowds

Spencer Crutcher

Champaign, United States

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