“Oh f—fu—fellatio.” Anvita hung her head. “You’re not allowed to say that on camera either, pumpkin.” “I know. My mind went blank.” Turning to Rosaline, Anvita flung her arms in the air. “It’s me. I’ve done it. I’ve made a penis. I’ve made an enormous bread penis. Someone always makes a penis. And this year it’s me who made the penis. My nan is going to watch me lovingly mould a penis with my bare hands on TV, probably with all her friends.” Grace Forsythe collapsed into unbroadcastable laughter. “It is one of the better ones I’ve seen. I mean, in the ballroom. Outside, I’m no judge. And,
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