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all they could see was my eye pupils. "Pupil Jew-Jew."
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"Here comes Pupil Jew-Jew."
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Some of them even did awful Sammy Davis Jr.
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impressions to my face.
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"Sha boing boing, you black Jew-Jew."
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I was covered in sloppyjoe and mashed potatoes and vegetable medley.
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And I look up,
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and I see Stu.
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He was standing there with a handful of napkins.
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And a smile on his face as if to say, "Everything was going to be okay."
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Stuart may have gone to that big Shabbat in the sky, but he's still with us.
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He's up there making sad angels laugh