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just for us and only us. The three of us. I grinned. “My dad once made me sleep in a tent in the yard because I had a nosebleed that wouldn’t stop.” “Miss Beatrice once used scissors to get poop off my butt,” Donut said. “Uh huh,” I said. “Once?” “We’re having a moment here, Carl. Don’t ruin it.”
The Dungeon Anarchist's Cookbook (Dungeon Crawler Carl, #3)
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