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R.L. Stine
Oct 19, 2007

welcome to dead gay dog house
Wade paced back and forth in the bathroom that morning, likening his methodical steps to that of the Hitlerjugend in the hit 1940's Der Marsch zum Führer. One of his favourites. He looked deep into the mirror, beyond himself and into the eyes of Joseph Goebbels, Heinrich Himmler, and even Herman Göring. They told him no secrets this time. He felt like Julius Lippert directing Eine Symphonie des Kampfwillens. It was unfathomable. So far, Wade had done everything Hitler's avatar had asked of him. He had found the secret cipher in Mein Kampf. He had directed faithful party members to South America in the cover of night, feeling much like an independent fighter in a film Wade quoted at least twice a day: Der Fuchs von Glenarvon. There were even times, like during the cover-up of Hitler's death, where he felt like the hero of Württemberg, Obrist Röder, in Jud Süß. But this task was something else. Could he really steal Hitler's missing testicle from Albert Hall in time to ensure the survival of the Aryan race?

As Wade was about to find out, this was not just ein Triumph des Willens. This final task would be the ultimate Triumph des Wade, winning over his sexy SS girlfriend and, even, Hitler himself.

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