Hey, baby, wanna buy my plane? How about two?

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Once upon a time, your truly, the King, had loads of money but needed to get around the world fast. So when you the king, whaddaya do, baby? Buy a buttload of plane tickets? No, honey, you buy your own PLANES. Two, because I can. That dog will hunt. That's how I took care of business.

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Then, well, I kinda sorta died. And my planes went on display across the street from my house. Luxury planes for the public to come drop a jaw at, the Lisa Marie and Hound Dog II.

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And The Hound Dog II:

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And now, the time has come, to SELL, BABY, SELL!  My sky cars include a penthouse bedroom with a custom queen-sized bed, and a bathroom with gold faucets and gold washbasin. See this here:

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Mmmm, that's living. And it can all be yours, if the price is right, sugah. We're hoping for between 10 and fifteen million. My planes will be auctioned off through the sealed bid Friday through Feb. 2. Think how great these will looked parked out in front of your trailer. (Oh, and air masks don't fall from the ceiling in emergencies, just Me Stained Scarves. (And by me, I mean Elvis Sweat, you filthy minded hunk of burning lovely.)

Thank you. Thank you very much.

P.S: Here's a list of ten songs about ME!

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