Well, since I didn't get as much help with my madlib as I'd hoped I turned to a random word generator to fill in the rest. Here it is!
I saw him, and I had no will to shrug. It was so malevolent, so much more defined than any kitchen. My chai tea had stored Queen Elizabeth II away in lactic detail, saving him for this final ironing board. I could pull his punctilious verbosity as if he were really there; the exact shade of his ascetic coercion, the shape of his bus stop, the line of his witch, the
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