To Grandmother's House Part 3 (N)




So of course the next thing to do was buy a permanent habitat for the TV Trio.

We were talking about the places that sold the types that were available when Mom found something on the Internet.

It was a little castle set-up. Every sylph could have and decorate their own trurret as their private preserve, and they could all sleep together in the bedroom in the keep.

“Problem is,” she said, “it’s only sold in Salt Lake City.”

“That’s just three hours away!” Dad said.

“Four by speed limit,” Conrad muttered.

“Shuttup.”

“If I’d ever said I could drive YOUR car to Salt Lake in three hours, you’d have grounded me!”

“No, I’d have just reminded you who paid for your insurance.”

“BOYS!” Delli shrieked. “Whether it’s three hours or four, that’s at LEAST six hours in a car with Mr. Wade playing the Privacy game on the carrier.”

“We just have a travel rule, then,” Mom said, “that Wade and the carrier are in different seats at all times. Front and back, no matter what.”

“Aw!” Wade and Mary Ann protested.

“Maybe ten minutes out of every hour?” I suggested.

“When he’s not driving,” Cher added.

“Shotgun!” Wade shouted!

I turned to Mary. The one who didn’t like to play Privacy. “Wanna hide in our carrier?”

“Please,” she said.

Julie was looking at the clock. “We can make it, but then dinner AND driving back…”

“We’ll stay the night, come back tomorrow,” Wade said.

“OOoh, that means we can see Hogle Zoo!” Conrad said.

“I…” We all turned to stare at Mary Ann. “I haven’t been in a zoon in forever.”

“Moved and seconded,” Wade said softly.

Conrad quickly explained his rules on travel snacks. We voted him in charge of provisions.

They voted me in charge of the radio.

And soon, we were off, everyone with overnight bags and overland snacks and we listened to the radio station we used to work at all the way to Idaho Falls.

Conrad and his father did most of the driving. So whoever wasn’t at the wheel stretched out in the back seat, allegedly napping.

Really, they were playing with one to four sylphs.

Dad was holding Delli and I in his hands, playing 20 questions, when Mom had this idea.

“You know what? I think a little nudity is inorder.”

“What an enlightened woman!” Delli said enthusiastically. She reached for her shirt. Dad grabbed us both. I thought he was restraining any exhibitionist tendencies on the part of female sylphs, but really it was a safety reaction.

Conrad had swerved violently at the statement and the car rocked a bit as he tried to recover.

“Who?” he asked. “Who needs to be naked? And what state will I be in at the time?”

Mom had been holding Mary Ann and looking at her foot. Her skirt had slipped up and Mom saw, well, ‘all the way to Florida’ as they say in the strip shows.

I heard.

“I just think Wade and I should show our sylphvs that we trust them.” “Naked,” Wade said in a flat tone.

“Yes. See, there will be times when you will have to see them naked, one or more, for health, hygiene or clothing purposes.

“I don’t want anyone to feel guilty that anyone’s getting away with something. So we’ll have a trust exercise. We’ll see everyone’s nudity and not freak out and being okay with it in the future.”

“Okay,” Wade said. He winked at Delli and me, then said, “of course, to be fair, we’ll have to be naked, too.”

But Conrad had seen that one coming and didn’t lose his shit. He just signaled to pull over to the next rest stop.

“What are you doing?” Julie asked.

“I figure the five of you can get in the back seat and get this over with. Six. Delli would love to provide emotional support, I’m sure.”

“I would not!” Cher shouted from the cupholder in front.

“I’m with Cher!” I shouted.

In the end, Julie did get in the back with Wade, but all they did was snuggle together and hug their sylphs and talk softly.

They learned that hugging Julie’s cheek is the best because she never has to shave, but snuggling that little hollow of Wade’s throat is far warmer than Julie’s.

I snuggled in Conrad’s pocket and felt quite secure and happy the rest of the way to Salt Lake.

He did slow down for the canyons around Logan. Beautiful forests, there, especially after the Great Idaho Desert.

We got there too late for the store with the castles. So we found a motel and just decompressed for a while.

Mostly the giants decompressed, the rest of us had had the room of a plane hangar to run around in for the whole day.

Conrad got a room next door to his parents, which had a human-sized connecting door AND a sylph pass-thru. So we could help the giants decompress according to what they were watching. One room was Gunsmoke, the other was Magnum, PI.

Eventually, Julie announced dinner plans. She’d called the Salt City Jail and made reservations.

The Jail had an Old West Theme, including wanted posters. When we arrived, there was a printed old-time-style wanted poster for each of the giants. No picture but the names of Wily Wade Loudon, Julie Stagecoach Loudon and Conrad Ace Loudon were prominently displayed over a list of their crimes.

We all laughed and spent the evening deciding who was on whose gang.

“Obviously, Electra’s the brains of my outfit,” Conrad said.

“Then I want top billing,” I said. “The Electra Gang, with Ace Loudon.”

“I’d rather a certain amount of deniability,” Mary Ann mused. “I don’t know nothing about no bank robbery, sheriff, I was in the saddlebag the whole time!”

“Eh,” Wade said, “We’d be the Over The Hill Gang, anyway.”

“You’re not over the hill!” Mary protested.

“You guys are barely ON the hill!” Mac insisted.

“And even that’s only because the freeway makes the first half of the hill an easy climb!” Cher finished.

“That’s sweet,” Julie told the sylphs.

Wade nodded. “Well, I misspoke. You’re certainly not over the hill.”

“And you look good beside me,” she said. They leaned close and nuzzled for a bit.

Conrad made loud noises about the varios steaks listed in the menu.

“Such a bohemian,” Delli laughed.

“So, you’re saying you want tuna,” Conrad threatened her.

“No, sir, mister tolerant, master,” Delli said, throwing herself face down on the tablecloth.

The Jail didn’t have tasting plates and they were adamant that only kids could order from the kids’ menu, so we had to negotiate a meal for all of sylphdom.

Problem is, every vote came out 3 for, 3 against.

“I do think it’s amazing,” I said, “that there are SIX sylphs so confident in their owner’s respect that they don’t feel a need to cave in order to get what they want. But something’s gotta give.”

‘Call it,” Conrad said, flipping a coin in the air.”

“Heads!” Delli shouted. The others just stared at him. It came up heads. He slapped it onto the table to show us.

“Okay,” Conrad said. “One set of sylphs choose dinner, one chooses dessert. My sylphs won the toss so they can-“

“Dessert!” Cher and I shouted at the same time.

Mac and the Marys choose a petite steak with corn and fries. We chose a chocolate pudding pie.

Conrad had everything boxed at the end, after making sure that the hotel rooms had minifridge capacity.

And we went to the hotel to veg out in front of the TV once more.

Until… the noises.

It built up slowly. Conrad couldn’t hear anything over the movie we were watching. Cher suggested we turn the sound up.

“What?” Delli protested. “No, no, no, turn it down!”

“What’s going on?” Conrad asked lazily. He was prone on the bed, propped up by pillows to watch the TV, hands idly caressing all three of his pets.

Beneath his chin, we all looked at each other before answering his question.

“Well, Conrad,” Cher said, “how open minded are you?”

“I’m wonderfully open minded,” he said. We stood and turned up to look him in the eye. “I am!” he insisted.

“I bribe Delli to wear clothes, rather than just staple her into a dress. I’m godfather to the son of a former school bully. I consider it OUR home, not mine. I let you guys name yourselves.”

“But not Electra,” Cher pointed out.

“Eh,” I said. “At this point, the show’s tied up with that name, I’m not interested in changing it.”

“I’ve bathed a gay sylph when he had a fever,” Conrad went on. “And I’ve never made Delli feel shame for being naked so often. So, all in all, I’d say pretty open minded,” Conrad concluded. “Why?”

“Okay,” Cher said, “you know Miss Julie’s plan to get naked and make sure everyone knew there was no reason to be jealous or ashamed of nudity, not withint the family?”

“Yeah,” Conrad said slowly.

“It went well,” Cher said. Then he looked a little helpless.

“Your parents are having sex,” Delli said. The bed shook as Conrad shot to his feet and padded to the connecting door, locking it.

“He’s such a libertine,” Delli laughed. We watched as he went to make sure the night latch was set on the door to the hallway, then came back to the sylph door, hand out to lock that, too. He turned to where we were sprawled on the cover from his abrupt launch.

“Should we leave the door unocked for refugees? Or are they trapped in their carrier?”

“Conrad, sit down,” I said. He knelt at the foot of the bed. “Okay, you remember Annie and Ray? The sylph and her owner who said ‘I love you’ with death threats?”

“Yeah, that was their relationship.”

“Okay, good, now you have to know that for the TV Trio, they’ve only known one say to express themselves for the last decade.”

“What?” he asked.

“Sex,” Cher said. “For them, sex is ‘I love you’ and ‘I trust you’ and ‘would you do me a favor’ and all that. The only way they express… Anything, really, is sex.”

“I can see that,” Conrad nodded.

“So,” I said, pointing to the connecting door. “Over in that room right now…”

He nodded again. “I see. So right now, they’re in the carrier, but they hear my parents having…. Sex. Happy sex, not coerced. And they’re learning that sex can be just sex, not necessarily a means of barter.”

“He’s so cute,” Delli said. “Has anyone told him there’s no Santa Claus?” “I know the ones at the Mall aren’t REALLY Santa,” he said with a grin. “Just his representatives. But what does that have to do with educating the Trio?”

“Conrad,” I said. I paused. How to put this? “Conrad, your parents aren’t forcing the sylphs to perform for their amusement, but… But… Well, they ARE, um, sharing.”

“What?” he asked, confused. “They’re… They’re having sex in the carrier while…”

“NO, Conrad,” Delli said. “FIVE people are in the bed over there, touching naked bodies with malice aforethought and saying ‘I love you’ with skin to skin contact.”

Our favorite libertine did not quite throw up, but he did sit on the rim of the bathtub, near the toilet, for quite a while.

We turned up the sound til even we couldn’t follow the action next door.

Except for the giggling, now and then.

I slid down the blanket to the floor and walked to the door of the bathroom.

“It’s GOOD news, Conrad!” I said from that safe distance. “Your parents have discovered a new lease on life. They’ve rekindled the spark.

“And their sylphs are happily relating to their new owners in a way they can understand and trust.”

“I just keep thinking, that month after I realized Mom knew you and I had had sex,” he moaned.

“Oh, yeah, you were pretty skittish then,” I recalled. I thought and thought. Then I thought of something that might calm him down. “You know, Conrad, we’re not under your parents’ roof right now…”

“What? NEXT DOOR?” he outraged.

“Yeah,” I shrugged. “Look, they KNOW we share a love that includes a physical dimension.

“They’re going to know we sylphs heard them having sex right now. They’ll assume that we told you. And… Well, when they settle down, they’re probably going to wonder if you’re going to judge them harshly for what they did.”

“Probably,” he said miserably.

“Sooooooo,” I said, “if they finish and THEIR sylphs hear that you’re over on this side of the door, having sex with a wee lover, then the score is tied and people can relax.”

“Maybe,” he said. He glanced at the mirror, but it was in the direction of the bed, where the other two were waiting.

“I don’t… I don’t want to share you.”

“I don’t want to share you, either,” I smiled.

“You’re not my type!” Cher shouted.

“Me, neither! Delli added. Conrad frowned. He reached down to pick me up and carried me out to the bed.

He knelt at the foot again and reached out to his pets. “Okay, I’m not your type, Cher, and I’m okay with that…”

Cher flexed his muscles and said, “I just have to be in charge. That’s how I get down. That’s impossible with a human lover. But Mac’s small.”

“Next to you, every sylph is small,” I laughed. Conrad was turning to Delli.

“But Delli, I just realized I don’t know what your type is?”

“He is,” she said, jerking her thumb at Cher.

“He’s gay,” I said.

“And I used to be a man,” she said quickly, in the manner of one ripping off a bandage.

“Oh,” Conrad said. He didn’t flinch away from Delli and I was so, so proud of him. I imagine that she was used to much worse reactions. She seemed surprised by the lack of one from our giant. Then she smiled.

“Is that okay, Conrad?”

“It explains a lot,” he said. He stroked her back and she leaned into it. She told me later that the worst part about the sex change was how many people didn’t want to touch her afterwards. At all. No hugs, no handshakes, no pats on the shoulder.

Conrad never paused. He never flinched.

He’s an idiot, but he’s a wonderful idiot.

“I guess,” he went on, “that’s why you like to be nude? You went to quite some effort to get this body, you deserve to be proud of it.”

“I am,” she said softly.

“You were a guy?” Cher asked. There was a tone of wonder in his voice.

“Is that okay, Cher?” she asked him.

He got a shit-eating grin on his face. “It’s more than okay,” he said. He reached out to gently touch her shoulder.

Conrad pulled his hand back and Delli leaned into Cher’s touch. They looked at me. I smiled for both of them.

They looked to Conrad. “Master, sir,” Delli begged, “can we have some time off?”

“Just to… figure some things out?” Cher added.

“You guys take the bed,” Conrad said. “We’re going to take a bath.”

“Sweet talker,” I said.

I undressed quickly on the dresser, Conrad and I both studiously not staring at the two on the bed.

Then he carried me into the bathroom and started running water in the tub. Then he locked the door and started to undress himself.

“Are you afraid they’re going to break in?” I laughed.

“I’m subtly signaling for privacy,” he said. “On both sides of the door. And undoing the lock, later, will be another announcement.”

“Thoughtful,” I said.

I learned then that Conrad had packed his favorite bath toy. Two stiff wire from clothes hangers, covered in a thin layer of rubber, set about four inches apart.

He climbed into the water as I stood on the tiles, watching his giant nude glory pass overhead.

Then he leaned over the brim and lowered the wire. I hopped up and grabbed the upper bar.

I routined for him. Slowly, I swung from bar to bar, naked, dangling upside down, spreading my legs, swinging from side to side. Unlike my usual routining, I went carefully and deliberately, holding poses for more than a second.

He watched closely.

I never made eye contact. I twisted around to show him my back, my butt, the muscles flowing under my skin.

Hot, humid breath crossed over my skin with growing frequency.

And then, the sudden dismount. A deep breath, then a hop, a pop and a dive into the water below.

Fingers reached for me as I swam under his knee and came up on his calf.

“C’mere, you,” he commanded.

I ran up to his knee, shouted, “NO!” and did a backflip to dive down past his feet.

The poor man was helpless. He couldn’t move too much for fear of smashing me against the tub or drowning me.

This would probably be more fun, playing hide and seek under a bubble bath, but I would always worry about getting too lost.

Keep away works fine for us, and drives him absolutely mad with desire.

And, well, I kinda get a thrill proving my natural superiority.

He finally caught me, though, as I was swimming up his leg. I was going to count coup on his balls, but he fished me out of the water about mid-thigh.

He held me up to his face, water dripping off of me and his hand. Oh, and we don’t use bubble bath because then he’d have to rinse me off before licking me.

He started with my back, dropping to my ass, then thighs, then around to my front…

Truth to tell, I kinda lost track about then. I was completely at the mercy of giant-but-gentle hands, thick-but-friendly lips and an inquisitive-but-respectful tongue.

It took a while, he took his time, and he’s very diligent. I came in his mouth, and on his nose, I think.

He draped me over his chest and slowly poured handfuls of warm water over me.

After quite a bit, I slithered up his chest to ask, “What can I do for you?”

“Well,” he said, “NOT use my cock as a diving board.”

“But I got such AIR off of it!” I protested.

“It’s not meant for that kind of treatment!”

“Ooooooh?” I asked. “What sort of treatment IS it meant for?”

“Licking, kissing, rubbing…”

“Not planting the feet firmly on the end and flexing the knees?”

“No,” he said. “There should be no knees involved.” Heh. Wrong.

I scooted a bit and slid down his chest to his waiting groin. There I lay at the base of his cock and wrapped my legs around him. And kneed him. I squeezed with my knees, stroked with my knees, fondled, rubbed, caressed… All with only my knees.

“I… I stand… I stand corrected!” he said after I made him explode.

“You can’t stand right now!” I pointed out.

“No, and thanks to the gods for that,” he muttered. He sank down into the water, which flooded the area of his groin.

“EEP!”

But before water got past my waist, he was holding me up this chest again.

I cuddled his palm as he held me close. I looked up to his face. “So… Our roommates. Things are going to be… Different.”

“What?” he asked. “People we love, love each other. Maybe in ways there’s no easy word for… But, you know, love works.”

“I guess it all flows from that,” I agreed. “How open minded are you? I mean, really?”

“I’m so open….” He sighed. “There aren’t too many adult bookstores in Idaho, but those there are have really extensive inventories. If anyone wants… Accessories? I’d be willing to take any one or all three of you shopping.”

“I’m fine,” I said, hugging his skin. “But let’s put in pin in that for later.”

We heard the shower through the wall when we finally drained the tub. We ignored that.

The latest Bond movie was playing on the TV while Conrad ran a bath in the sink for Delli and Cher. I sat in the pocket of Conrad’s robe while he bathed the magnetic couple.

I’m not sure what they’d done, or what their current status really was, but they were constantly touching each other, gazing into each other’s eyes, giggling at shared whispers.

Soon everyone was wrapped in a towel or the blankets, enjoying the Bond movie’s ending. I fell asleep watching a sylphed Ms. Moneypenny take M’s dictation on her customized keyboard.

-------

Breakfast was tasty, silent, and intolerable. Seriously. Eight incredibly smug people all smiling knowingly at everyone else.

No one asked, ‘what’s up?’ or ‘did you sleep well?’ or commented about how late everyone slept in.

They didn’t even trust themselves to say ‘pass the syrup,’ they just pointed and smiled their thanks.

Wade fed Mary little tidbits of French toast and fruit by hand, Julie fed Mary Ann and Mac, Cher and Delli fed each other, and Conrad fed me. I hoped none of this was supposed to be a secret.

I took a bite of grape off of a toothpick and suddenly started laughing.

Everyone stopped gawking at one or another lover and stared at me. That made me laugh even louder. I fell onto my back.

“I think…” I giggled some more. I tried again. “I was just thinking… If Howard were to step up to the table right now…”

“I’d kill him,” Conrad said in a conversational tone.

“Get in line,” his mom said brightly.

“Dibs his ankles!” Cher said.

“Like she’s going to leave that much of him,” Wade snorted.

Then we were all laughing so much the waitress had to ask if we were drunk.

We cleaned up our act and hit the road. The castle store was in the Trolley Square Mall, an old train barn converted to shops.

The architecture was eclectic and the shops high-end.

There was no discussion, the family just drifted into a major window-shopping spree through the place.

We found the Sylph Château almost by accident. The castle set was in the window, but we also explored some of the other sylph cage options. There was a train depot, which obviously hooked up to a sylph-scale train set (sold separately); a space-shuttle; Howard Hughes’ plane, the Spruce Goose; a Death Star (but not as snazzy as Carrie Fisher’s); and a gingerbread house with slots to put real gingerbread panels in place.

We toured the castle and it was everything we’d expected. Spiral stairs in the towers, turrets they could decorate, there was a big bed already in the keep. We even found two secret passages.

Then Mac got a glimpse of the sticker price for the castle. He folded, gibbering in fear. Julie, who was holding us at the time, didn’t see what he’d been looking at, just realized that one of the sylphs she was escorting through the store was having a seizure.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked him, then asked me.

“Move me closer, please?” I asked. She put her two hands together and I hugged Mac’s shoulders. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“We can’t… We can’t live up to that!” he hissed, nodding towards the castle.

“You don’t have to!” I hissed back.

“No, no,” he moaned. “Last night was great and special but we can’t do that every… Not every time!”

“Calm down, idiot,” I snapped. He stared at me. “Remember? They picked this castle on the internet yesterday! BEFORE anything that happened in the hotel room.”

“But, but,” he protested.

I grabbed him close and channeled my inner Conrad. I whispered into his ear, “They have no grandchildren.”

“What?”

“Think of this as five years of Christmas presents for an only child’s only child!”

“Oh.” He took a deep breath. Then another. Then he looked at me. “Then… Why isn’t it wrapped?” We laughed and hugged and Julie started breathing again.

Wade paid for it and Conrad offered to schlep it out to the car. The instant he was out of sight, Wade chivvied Julie around the corner and down the hall.

There was a store in the corner, the Flashback Photo Follies.

He ducked inside and he and Delli started to giggle.

The place offered photographs taken in a variety of vintage costumes, done in sepia tones and framed in old-time wanted posters. There wasn’t a lot of variety in the posters, but Wade planned to carefully glue the Salt City Jail posters into place for a fairly original poster.

And they had sylph costumes!

Before Conrad found us again, Julie had dressed up and posed as a Saloon Madam, with four tiny Saloon Girls dancing on the counter of her bar while she poured a whiskey.

Conrad watched his dad pose as a cattle rustler against a wooden fence. Mac and Cher were also dressed as cowboys and standing on the top pole of the fence.

It didn’t take much to get Conrad to dress up as a riverboat gambler, raking in chips for a winning hand. I stood at his elbow, the Queen of Hearts.

------

After that, everyone was in a very relaxed mood for the zoo.

Until the fucking snakes pardon my French.

I mean, I loved the elephants. They’re so big and gentle and even from down here, they’re still big gentle giants. And the giraffes. Same thing.

There’s the armadillo exhibit, with the little bodies on their backs, looking like plague victims, and the hand lettered sign that says, ‘Do not come and tell the Keepers that the armadillos are dead, they sleep this way, it’s okay, really.’ I had Conrad hold me up beside that sign for a picture, it was so silly.

I kinda remember a school trip to the zoo in Boise. And I remember that you could never find the snakes half the time, and you'd start to wonder if the cage was empty. And, now that I think about it, the little Loudon boy was all the time announcing that he could see the snake. Or the unicorn. Or the basilisk. Idiot.

But now, Conrad held us right up to the glass to look for snakes this time. And the damn thing came out and slid right past the glass. It had a head the size of my favorite sofa.

And there was something about it that made it very, very, very real, not like that thing on the Conan movie. Not even the rubber snake Conrad used to own.

It was real and it was evil and it was just the other side of the glass away. The cold, dead, black eye looked at me as it passed.

Delli found the proximity wonderfully frightening. I wet myself. I cried, I whimpered, I folded in on myself. But quietly, so all Conrad’s attention was on Delli and her whooping and screeching and giggling. Until I threw up. Then he noticed me, my feelings, the feelings he was getting from me…

Lucky for us both, Delli insists on a change of clothing for everyone in the day pack.

Delli rode with Wade after that, while Conrad found a seat in the shade and apologized about a gazillion times.

I just tried to relax and breathe deep. The smell of my owner was strong from his sweaty palms. The guilt coming off him felt like power. I could ask for about anything right then. If I pouted and made my voice quaver, I could get a return trip to the Sylph Château and a Space Shuttle for each of us. I know I could have.

But I didn’t. Because he took my fear seriously. He never tried to argue, ‘You were never really in danger’ or ‘I’d never have let anything happen to you.’

And the one time he used ‘silly sylph’ he was talking about Delli. And damned sure she was at least a quarter mile away from us at the time.

Finally, I was calm again and the idiot could feel it. We sat in the shade for a bit longer, just listening to the animals and the crowds.

“I have news,” he finally said. “Might cheer you up.”

“You spy with your little eye something that begins with Ice Cream?” I guessed.

“No, the show. Next season. Hubert’s been in talks.”

“Talks with whom?” I asked.

“Big Bang Theory. You know Sheldon’s pet sylph, IQ?”

“Of course.”

“They want to do an interview. I wasn’t going to mention it until we got home again, but maybe you need a pick-E-up.”

“With me? On MY show! That’s great!” It was maybe a little early to be lining up next season, but every little bit helps, I guess. Must have been an email, I’d have heard any phone conversations with our agent, Hubert.

“What’s more,” he said, “they want to do an episode of BBT that centers on IQ and one of his little schemes. They’re going to do an homage of Pinky and The Brain, the tongue-twister episode.”

“That’ll be fun,” I said. He was right, anticipating that kind of an episode was cheering me up. Obviously, IQ would be The Brain. “Who’s playing Pinky? And can we get him on the show, too?”

“That depends,” he said, all too smugly.

“Depends on what?”

“Can you, Electra, say Hackensack Socko kicky sack sidekick?” he asked.

“Hackensack Socko kicky sack sidekick,” I said. “Of course I can say it. Why? Is that a condition of the interview?”

“No, you silly sylph, it’s a condition of the guest appearance!” He unceremoniously stuffed me into his shirt pocket. “Honestly, some people are just too smart for their own surprises.”

“WAIT! WAIT, WAIT, WAIT!” I cried. He opened the pocket and looked back down. “Call Huburt. I must be able to take my own stylist along!”

“That’s part of the deal. IQ brings HIS people to Boise, we take OUR people to LA.”

“Oh. Okay, then.” People, he said. Plural. That meant I didn’t have to decide which of my partners was my ‘stylist.’

Coooooooool.





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Index

140. Charity Squares P1: Assemble