120 Ratso Skinrash

“Car keys!” swooned Swami Skinrash.
The extractions from the fanny packs were making dreams come true.
“Won’t I look very fine with my flowing long Hindu hair streaming over the headrest!”
He was back in disguise, every portion of it.
“Yes – and won’t that be a very commendable effort, to drive politely and expertly in the Ultimate Driving Machine!”
He giggled easily, off the windfall.

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