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Currently On Hiatus: Please Enjoy A New Reader Question Every Weekday!


A purple tongue emerges from the darkness, followed by a beak instead of a muzzle!
The wings block out the thin reflected light of the distant street-light, casting you into darkness.
The beady black eye, in the face you can barely make out, comes down, down, down to meet your own.
The beak, dangerously close to your face, parts once more, and-!
“Would you happen to know where Isleington street is? I’ve become quite turned around and there’s hardly anybody out and about to ask at this hour…”

Given what I know about Giraffe birth…
“The stork/giraffe gryphon was briefly employed in delivering babies in hard to reach areas, but it kept dropping them from a nine foot height, so we decided they weren’t a good fit for the job.”

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