As a junior Paleontologist I had my haunts around Webbwood Estates including one vaguely sepulchral pile of limestone that yielded good fossils. One time I lost my ring at the head of the pile. Cocking an eye I looked into it and saw an eye gazing back at me. I swear to God, an eye! This was how they found bodies. I thought, “Oh my God, I discovered Jimmy Hoffa!” I ran home and returned with a fellow trailer snipe and channeling our inner Nancy Drew we slowly, bravely picked away at the stones. A marble rolled out. Some caper.
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