The patissier really went for him, assailing him with all manner of carefully crafted
sweet delights. Stumbling he continued to stumble through, lost in the middle of the forest, may as well have been the middle of the world. It would not come off, at the beginning he liked it, hell it even fired up something he thought was long lost. At the beginning A. said it was a good look, but after a while, it started to feel like claustrophia, custard-style. And the flies refused to desist in their onslaught. His kingdom for a lake.
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