"Hey Michael," Luci mumbled, staring into his blue plastic cup as though it contained answers hidden only in the deepest reaches of the universe, "how come no one ever writes about us?" He looked up, his lip coated with a mustache made of milk (commonly referred to as a milk mustache, fancy that).
Michael blinked, very calmly resisting the urge to
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I am excited for party times! Plot? What plot?
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