“Well, you're magic,” he said and Milo Reznik stared at his friend, Marcus Sharp, carefully. The other boy stubbed a cigarette out on his windowsill. “But don't let it all go to your head. Well, I bet if you all had it all figured out. Then you'd never get out of bed. No doubt.”
All the thing's that I've read what he wrote me. Is now sounding like
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