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Merchandising! Merchandising!

Merchandising! Merchandising!
Dearest Internet

For centuries now, we here in AB Central have lived a meager existence. The impenetrable dark and stagnant wet are rarely conducive to the rolling meadows and springs you so relish upon the surface. Thus, with a lack of basic governance, a system of barter has taken hold. The daily staples you simply pluck from the ground are the most precious of jewels in our subterranean tomb (indeed, pieces of stale bread and rotten vegetables are often hung from the ear or thigh as a signifier of social rank); potatoes are exchanged for larger caves, shriveled tomatoes for warmer rags.

However, we have heard through legend and song how your utopia has no need for such brutish behaviors. Indeed, you simply fritter away meaningless scraps of paper in exchange for goods, so bountiful your lands have become. Oh how you mock us! Does your malice know no end?

So, come one come all, and point your internet sticks hither and gorge yourselves on Art Brut garments. We only ask you spare us the occasional thought as you bask in your summer sun cloaked your shirts of many colours.

yours hungrily

Barnaby Fudge

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