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My great-great-grandfather was murdered by an iceberg in 1875 and some days I feel a mysterious chill breeze that suggests it’s still out there and not finished with my family. Or my arse. Probably that now I think of it.
My great-great-grandfather was murdered by an iceberg in 1875 and some days I feel a mysterious chill breeze that suggests it’s still out there and not finished with my family. Or my arse. Probably that now I think of it.
I think your great grandfather made a deal for a stupid large amount of money, but instead of a snail it was an iceberg that would kill him
The family would like to know where the magic iceberg money went, as we never saw a penny of it.