Wastebasket Enemy Combatant is Glazed on the Inside and Stained on the Outside

The Wastebasket Enemy Combatant whispers about this and that. He raises himself, very pretty. He sinks into use. The Wastebasket Enemy Combatant is properly applied. He's broken. He reaches for the International Federation of Aerophilatelic Societies. He stumbles.

The Wastebasket Enemy Combatant shouts when foreign intelligence confuses Catty Shack chicken-flavored treats with evidence. He can't tell the difference between NF Formula and the miniature tennis ball soaked in catnip that hides underneath the ottoman.

He's aglow with subtle Christmas colors and robust flavors. The Wastebasket Enemy Combatant is made from chocolate brown wax linen. He's invoked.

He swells, designed for espionage, filled with canceled checks and Kleenex.

The Wastebasket Enemy Combatant turned upside down and greatly expanded in a twist-tie 13-gallon bag.

He gropes. He gets on with the matter. He cries, so bloated by new modifications that he threatens to swallow ordinary criminal investigations. He revives to protect the soiling orange dog. He counts how many blisters on an egg. He's forbidden from independent schools. The Wastebasket Enemy Combatant is wrapped in an umbrella organization for use in large die casting plants in Germany.

He talked of being used as an end. He ascended into the Scout movement. He was falling down drunk with judicial oversight and he set up an umbrella campus ministry group, including disciples. He hurried, administered by a secret court.