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Allow me to tell you about a small town in the middle of nowhere known as Gloomville. Anyone who lived in Gloomville, born in Gloomville, or even moved to Gloomville was… gloomy, hence the name. Even the grass was gloomy, -- wilting and crusting, allowing a crunching noise to reach your ears as you walk along the pale pathways. The clouds that lingered over Gloomville were gray and discolored. The sky… mink and unhappy. Alongside it's depressed folk, Gloomville is filled with... sinkholes.

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