Title: Optional

Text: "And what have I done?" "What? What? . . . You've stolen them." With that, Cornelia fled, but Buttercup understood; she knew who "them" was. The boys. The village boys. The beef-witted featherbrained rattleskulled clodpated dim-domed noodle-noggined sapheaded lunk-knobbed boys. How could anybody accuse her of stealing them? Why would anybody want them anyway? What good were they? All they did was pester and vex and annoy. Each paragraph will be a test.

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