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Does this sandwich come with a download code?

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Please set your brain to silent mode & refrain from thinking.

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The dream echoes were lasting longer every time he plugged back into reality.

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Down on his luck, he resorted to selling his memories.

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I’m going to reinstall yesterday. Hopefully that will improve things.

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Magnetic Chances. Sunshine pop. Available in biscuit format.

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The colour drained from your eyes as bicycles fell from the rusty sky.

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You just say your problems into here, then, hey presto, ice cream comes out there.

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Rumbling disrupted the day’s work as tax inspectors burrowed up through the floorboards & got us when we least expected.

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“I demand to know what happened to reality,” I asked. “So do those lot. Now get to the back of the queue,” he answered.

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Two spoons of wisdom curry & everything will become clear.

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Paranoid notions, such as the unreality of the world & the endless quest for understanding, faded as the sun came up & we went to the beach.

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Look lemon, if you don’t speak we’ll put you in the squeezer.

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Sat around the bar, drinking heavily, was a potato, a carrot & an aubergine.

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A gang of spoons had the place surrounded & it was only a matter of time before the ice cream girl would have to go outside.

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I’d met the ice cream girl at a fridge party back in the summer of ’65. Dressed in a stylish cornet, she’d been chatting to some lollies.

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Amongst the inflatable suits and dehydrated neckties lurked a chameleon camera droid on an idea stealing mission.

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The expanding bookshelf surrounded me, then devoured me. But when I woke I remembered the world was now bookless.

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Herbert lives in an orange house and wears orange clothes. He eats oranges and drinks orange juice every day. His skin is orange too.

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Becky kept it in her handbag at all times. Then when men attempted to pick her up the creature would leap out and suck their face off.

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Knowing it was the only way the others would live the marzipan army solemnly marched into the child’s mouth

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My friend George is normal in every way – except at weekends he floats about the city in a bubble.

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His uncle said if they bothered him again he should sprinkle some water on the plastic dinosaurs.

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Jim hadn’t gone out for 30 years. He’d had no reasons to with 206 floors of entertainment. Then one day curiosity got the better of him.

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When his creativity finally dried up he was glad he’d pickled a few thoughts for a rainy day.

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Always uncomfortable at social gatherings it was no surprise when he invented the GSTG (Generic Small Talk Generator).

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There is a man called Bert who lives inside my head. He climbed in through my left ear when I was sleeping. I didn’t notice for weeks.

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After a dream of raining crumbs I woke to find a biscuity trail from my left ear to the kitchen. That was the start of my suspicions.

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I was able to put up with Bert until he invited his little friends over & they climbed through my left ear for a party in my head.

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Bert had a job designing climbing frames which he did on a tiny laptop in his office – my head – while stealing WiFi.

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He landed on a small planet to get something to eat but decided he wasn’t hungry as the only thing on the menu was talking vegetable slime.

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Chimpanzees climbed over the walls, pulling at the wires & laughing hysterically. Then the old man pressed a button & everything froze.

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She was enjoying the sunshine until a man sat down beside her. “The time has come,” he said. “Sorry?” she said. He handed her a box & left.

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The box stayed in her bag. She probably should have thrown it away. But she couldn’t bring herself to do so. Neither could she open it.

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Of course, she spent many a sleepless night wondering what was inside, her imagination going wild with the infinite possibilities.

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Finally she built up enough courage & opened the box. A white light blinded her as memories of forgotten past lives flooded into her mind.

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The twig was hollowed out and inside a team of specially trained ants were keeping watch as events unfolded.

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Rodney was tweeting so hard that – after a blast of white light – he found himself scrolling helplessly down the screen.

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Looking out at the world from behind the screen he saw things differently. He also saw his family who he hadn’t noticed for months.

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His wife & his children were quickly forgetting him but there was nothing he could do … unless he could get someone to retweet him.

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Only if his computerized being was multiplied across the internet would he stand a chance of reaching out & telling them he was sorry.

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“If only the world was made of Plastacine,” he said one morning. “Then I could make everything into perfect shapes with my cutters.”

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Peering inside – past glistening walls of infinite time & space – his breath was taken away by the beauty of the city that beckoned him.

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Half-way through the date she nearly blew it when from behind the tooth-pick dispenser a tiny man with a moustache appeared.

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At 12am tonight all terrestrial tea will cease to exist and only digital tea will be available. Consult your tea dealer for an upgrade.

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“Don’t worry. Thought addiction’s easily curable. We can soon put a stop to it. Just sign this and you’ll never think again.”

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The island was inhabited by a tribe of doughnut people who looked at our holeless chests in sheer wonderment.

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“You are experiencing a dream malfunction. Sorry for any inconvenience,” said a lady’s voice, seeping in through the cracks of his mind.

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A girl with short violet hair watched the ships flying off into the orange sky, dreaming that she would someday visit another planet.

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There were numerous gifts courtesy of visitors from far off worlds, including a flying trumpet, doughnut glasses & a decision box.

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At the time no one believed his claim that the potato was in fact an alien ambassador.

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A myriad mega thoughts fizzed in his head. But would they ever produce more than the odd micro action?

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As she cried her tears turned into water demons that attacked everyone who had made her sad.

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The new system had used his imagination against him: his punishment was being encased in his favourite pudding with his mouth taped shut.

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When he stared at the wall long enough a grinning face would emerge from the flowery pattern.

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I was having a great day until a group of pugnacious squirrels ambushed me in the park and stole my bag of assorted nuts.

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How dare they say he was deluded? Even if his friends were cardboard, his home made of polystyrene. He had reasons. Logical ones.

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Although painful he couldn’t resist looking through the window which showed how his life would’ve been if he’d done things differently.

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Sellotape & scissors melted together in the flames, releasing perverse fumes of pleasure in their final moments.

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Parallel dimension hopping was a risky past time but the thrill of seeing how each one differed made it too tempting for her to resist.

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Her beautiful body was cold and plastic; her pretty head full of wires. But her heart was warm & loving.

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The man had many faces which he’d got from an artisan in the mountains in exchange for a bag of dreams & a sprinkling of hope.

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She’d been lost in thought too long and was now unable to resurface in the world that continued without her.

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He believed his feelings were reciprocated after the way she caressed him with her upper head tentacles.

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Brain particles danced and flirted with thoughts before skinny dipping in the subconscious.

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She left a trail of goo wherever she went. And she lived in a shell. But he still loved the snail girl with all his heart.

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Her sleep was saturated with dreams that overflowed into her waking life and slowly dissolved in the flowing waves of reality.

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He realised his paranoia was not rotten thoughts but a squidgy creature with velcro-padded paws for sticking to the back of his head.

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“What are you?” someone asked as he entered. “I’m a hexagon.” “OK, your lot are over there. Welcome to the shape collective.”

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He cowered as they banged. “Open up, Inmind Revenue here. Come to collect your mind tax.”

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He was tweeting about his latest Facebook status while posting a status update about his latest tweet & trapped himself in a time loop.

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“Don’t try to discombobulate me,” the confusee said. “I’m doing no such thing. I’m merely obfuscating you,” the confuser said.

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When the men in suits arrived I stood my ground and said, “I will not be another file on the computer. I refuse to be digitalised.”

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The bar – so small we had to use a special machine to shrink us so we were small enough to get in – served ale drops & crisp crumbs.

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A year ago she never would have believed the man she would fall in love with would be made of Lego.

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She had more hats than she would ever need and each one told a different story. They also told jokes and argued long into the night.

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Ears grew on the bread and listened to themselves being eaten with pleasure.

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Powered by other people’s animosity he had to constantly insult everyone he met otherwise he would disappear into thin air.

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The island was covered in small mouths, each promising it alone told the truth & he shouldn’t listen to a word the others said.

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Everything was going fine back on his home planet … until he saw a cucumber.

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The noodle spoke calmly & with authority. “Eat me & you will automatically be entered into a mind experiment game show.”

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Surrounded by giant cake monsters, their only hope was to eat themselves free.

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Before going to bed he unplugged his nose & put it in a jar of orange jelly.

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Also he unscrewed his eyeballs & left them to soak in a pint of dark rum.

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She no longer wondered why Betty had hesitated to introduce the man as he started pouring apple juice in his ear.

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On calm days he would stop by the stream and listen to the pebbles whispering their secrets.

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Until she saw it with her own eyes she didn’t believe that her boss was trying to bring robot dancing back into fashion.

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What had been a splendid holiday was ruined when they returned to discover giant ants had taken over the city.

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Her show & tell popularity soon wore off when the creature got carried away & banished several classmates to another dimension.

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Clueless about a future career he entered his details and the mechanical voice suggested he become an amoeba.

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After inventing a mind-scanning device that created music based on his subconscious the self-reflecting cacophony caused his ears to bleed.

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