The Silver Hat A Short Story by Random Writer Mike Blast looked at the silver hat in his hands and felt puzzled. He walked over to the window and reflected on his deserted surroundings. He had always loved picturesque Liverpool with its silky, snotacular swamps. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel puzzled. Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Robert Noris. Robert was a clumsy monster with squat feet and ginger abs.
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