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				Death by, I mean, Story by Sentence Part II
			 
 
			
			The Aborigine, returning home from an afternoon of barbequed iguana and cactus squeezins, stopped, cocked his head (that one's for you, Lj) and blinked his eyes several times through the sun-dried mud paint at what he thought he was seeing.  
 Ayers rock was... well, it was GONE!
 
 
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