Twenty-three mung bean rice, twenty-three hungry, twenty-three looking for bricks, twenty-three turning against her.

Twenty-four mung bean days, twenty-four taboo days, twenty-four lettering, and twenty-four holes for you to pick.

Twenty-five mung beans must be cooked on an empty stomach, twenty-five smeared with soil and twenty-five blocked.

Twenty-six boiled mung beans, twenty-six looked at meat, twenty-six cooked old, and twenty-six you called her uncle.

Twenty-seven mung beans are rare. Think about that chicken. Twenty-seven painting twenty-seven separation.

Twenty-eight mung beans, twenty-eight ducks, twenty-eight brushes and twenty-eight separation points.

Twenty-nine eats one night, twenty-nine sends you away, twenty-nine makes moves, and twenty-nine blows her away.

Bah, we have to bury it.