The sleeping spell had worked perfectly. Everyone that would have normally been up and about in the village at midnight was fast asleep. Security guards slumped over in their booths, teenagers mid kiss fell against each other. Even pets were subject to the magic, a barking dog collapsed into the dewy grass and patrolling cats mid fight fell softly to the concrete. There were several car accidents as the drivers heads hit their wheels, and thankfully no one had died, yet.
Fluorescent lights up and down the main avenue flickered on and off then exploded and darkness engulfed the small town. If anyone had been awake they would have heard a high pitched whine as the skin between dimensions stretched and cracked. A single ragged line of white light formed in a rubbish strewn alley. The rip in space quivered for a moment and then suddenly erupted with a myriad of shimmering forms. Tuna, salmon, sun fish, crabs, lobsters, and a nearly endless stream of living sea creatures resolved themselves. They swam through the air as if it were water. And then the rift sealed shut after them.
The creatures spread out through the town. It was a small town, so many of the doors were unlocked. The creatures that couldn’t slice through a screen door or manage a door knob broke through windows. Coldly they flew through houses dispatching everyone. Fins and claws sliced through jugulars and emptied bellies of guts with a quick flip or snap.
In an hour their justice was served and they made their way back to the center of town.
Once every creature was under the large gazebo in the town’s central park the spell that kept them afloat cut out. The fish fell and gasped for water, the crustaceans snapped wildly for a several minutes and they expired in a large pile.
The stench of death wafted through the town as the sky began to brighten with the sunrise.
Monday, 21 November 2011
Sunday, 20 November 2011
76) Goblin Porno
I sat on a tree stump and swung my feet back and forth, fidgeting in the moon light. I was early for the shoot, needing the money and not willing to flake on this kind of opportunity. My name is Gregow, I’m a Kobold and I’m going to work on a porno.
I heard leaves rustling behind me and I quickly put my red leather cap back on. The cap was itchy for some reason, probably because I was nervous. As I stared at the low brush and its waving dark greenery I could see the chaos compass burnt deep into the tree stump. Its edges were sharp as if it were carved in before the wood was burnt, it’s magic glammering the area out of human vision.
After a moment the most beautiful sylph floated through the bush. She wore gossamer vestments and the most tortured bored look I’ve ever seen on a creature. When she saw me she raised a twig thin arm and I returned the greeting, probably a little too enthusiastically. I stopped quickly and put down my thick hairy arm in embarrassment. Maybe she saw that because she smiled a little as she flew up to the stump.
“You must be Gregow. Here to help right?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Good, and polite too. My name’s Silesh. Here’s what’s going to happen: I’m the director, the camera man will be here shortly, and the talent will be late, like they always are. Ah, and speak of the devil…” She turned and jumped off the stump.
She must have heard something I didn’t. All I noticed was the slight night breeze. Realizing something was missing I called after her, “Wait, what am I going to do?”
Maybe she didn’t hear me or was just ignoring me. Either way it was better than my day job.
Thick deep purple smoke roiled out from the tree tops and I gasped. This was amazing, I’d never met a Djinn before. He materialized a little on the small side, but I’m sure they come in all sorts of sizes. He fell slowly through the air and landed in an embrace with Silesh.
They talked animatedly for several minutes while I sat, forgotten on the stump. My fingers itched to hide under a measuring cup or pull a drawer closed behind me. Now that more people were here I think I was getting nervous. Even though the glamor was still strong, the branches hung low, and the grove was a bit claustrophobic it wasn’t quite tight enough for me. I really like to feel four walls around me if I can. But what am I supposed to do when all the house cleaning is done by robots?
I heard leaves rustling behind me and I quickly put my red leather cap back on. The cap was itchy for some reason, probably because I was nervous. As I stared at the low brush and its waving dark greenery I could see the chaos compass burnt deep into the tree stump. Its edges were sharp as if it were carved in before the wood was burnt, it’s magic glammering the area out of human vision.
After a moment the most beautiful sylph floated through the bush. She wore gossamer vestments and the most tortured bored look I’ve ever seen on a creature. When she saw me she raised a twig thin arm and I returned the greeting, probably a little too enthusiastically. I stopped quickly and put down my thick hairy arm in embarrassment. Maybe she saw that because she smiled a little as she flew up to the stump.
“You must be Gregow. Here to help right?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Good, and polite too. My name’s Silesh. Here’s what’s going to happen: I’m the director, the camera man will be here shortly, and the talent will be late, like they always are. Ah, and speak of the devil…” She turned and jumped off the stump.
She must have heard something I didn’t. All I noticed was the slight night breeze. Realizing something was missing I called after her, “Wait, what am I going to do?”
Maybe she didn’t hear me or was just ignoring me. Either way it was better than my day job.
Thick deep purple smoke roiled out from the tree tops and I gasped. This was amazing, I’d never met a Djinn before. He materialized a little on the small side, but I’m sure they come in all sorts of sizes. He fell slowly through the air and landed in an embrace with Silesh.
They talked animatedly for several minutes while I sat, forgotten on the stump. My fingers itched to hide under a measuring cup or pull a drawer closed behind me. Now that more people were here I think I was getting nervous. Even though the glamor was still strong, the branches hung low, and the grove was a bit claustrophobic it wasn’t quite tight enough for me. I really like to feel four walls around me if I can. But what am I supposed to do when all the house cleaning is done by robots?
75) Bush Barter
We sat in silence for some time after sunset roasting fish over our small fire. Eventually I spoke up if not to start an actual conversation then at least to hear myself talk. “So, Barry, what did you think of that guy that came earlier?”
“Hmm.” He said and pulled his fish off the fire with the branch it was laying on.
“I mean, that stuff he showed us was interesting, right? Did you like his stories?”
“I dunno.”
“You didn’t like them?” My own fish had begun to burn and I took it off the fire as well.
“I didn’t like his thing, his book. It was too complicated. Too much like a pile of bugs on leaves.”
I laughed and poked at my hot fish, still too hot. I nursed my burnt finger and Barry snickered. I said, “It wasn’t worth what he was asking for it.”
“True.”
“What do you think will happen to him?” I remembered the guy, tall and thin. He probably wouldn’t last too long out here without proper tools. And piles of leaves aren’t any good for hunting.
“He’ll probably meet someone who wants it and will kill him for it.”
“Probably.”
Something in me was satisfied with that small amount of conversation. Meager like the meal before us, but it was all we needed. And maybe tomorrow would bring more too.
Barry dug into his fish and I followed his lead. As I ate the tender crumbly deliciousness my thoughts swirled around the stranger that had visited us earlier. I thought about his strange clothing, many colored strips of fabric sewn around his body, even in the sweltering heat, instead of a tasteful loin cloth. I thought about what he had brought, his books and their words. He had wanted several days worth of food for a single book. It was a ridiculous offer, but he seemed so sincere. The writing did seem magical, words that stayed on the book. He could say words from it and then go back and say the same words again no matter how long he didn’t see them. He tried to teach us how to read, but neither of us could tell one word from the next.
When the stranger could tell we were not interested in the books he told us stories of his home. I have heard of people living in caves their whole lives so that did not come as a surprise. I have heard of people making their own caves out of wood or mud. He was a very boring story teller until he came to his people’s creation myths about a world without gods or demons. His story was of a giant ball of mud where simple animals grew from it naturally and then they turned into other animals. Decent at best, but not as entertaining as gods making us out of dust.
“Hmm.” He said and pulled his fish off the fire with the branch it was laying on.
“I mean, that stuff he showed us was interesting, right? Did you like his stories?”
“I dunno.”
“You didn’t like them?” My own fish had begun to burn and I took it off the fire as well.
“I didn’t like his thing, his book. It was too complicated. Too much like a pile of bugs on leaves.”
I laughed and poked at my hot fish, still too hot. I nursed my burnt finger and Barry snickered. I said, “It wasn’t worth what he was asking for it.”
“True.”
“What do you think will happen to him?” I remembered the guy, tall and thin. He probably wouldn’t last too long out here without proper tools. And piles of leaves aren’t any good for hunting.
“He’ll probably meet someone who wants it and will kill him for it.”
“Probably.”
Something in me was satisfied with that small amount of conversation. Meager like the meal before us, but it was all we needed. And maybe tomorrow would bring more too.
Barry dug into his fish and I followed his lead. As I ate the tender crumbly deliciousness my thoughts swirled around the stranger that had visited us earlier. I thought about his strange clothing, many colored strips of fabric sewn around his body, even in the sweltering heat, instead of a tasteful loin cloth. I thought about what he had brought, his books and their words. He had wanted several days worth of food for a single book. It was a ridiculous offer, but he seemed so sincere. The writing did seem magical, words that stayed on the book. He could say words from it and then go back and say the same words again no matter how long he didn’t see them. He tried to teach us how to read, but neither of us could tell one word from the next.
When the stranger could tell we were not interested in the books he told us stories of his home. I have heard of people living in caves their whole lives so that did not come as a surprise. I have heard of people making their own caves out of wood or mud. He was a very boring story teller until he came to his people’s creation myths about a world without gods or demons. His story was of a giant ball of mud where simple animals grew from it naturally and then they turned into other animals. Decent at best, but not as entertaining as gods making us out of dust.
Thursday, 17 November 2011
74) Bar Talk
“Sometimes I feel like an Alien traveling backwards through time.” I said, staring down into my beer.
“What’re you going on about?” Carl, my workmate slurred at me.
It was a celebratory Friday night. We had just delivered the software on time and under budget at this small game software company in Berkeley. Carl and I were Quality Assurance, the last essential step before going gold. It’s not actually burned onto a gold disk anymore, but the name has stuck over the years.
Carl belched and shoveled a few pretzels into his mouth. He chomped away at them for a minute then said, “Well, I feel like a sheep in a castle.”
I laughed, “That makes even less sense, man.”
“You started it.”
I noticed our beers were running short. “Same?” Meaning did he want the same beer as the last three. He frowned and nodded in response. And there in the dim bar light he suddenly seemed very old. Not necessarily wise and aged like a wizard, but more like a tired old shop keeper or down on his luck blacksmith. The game we had delivered was a clone of another massively popular game, but this one had a more realistic feel with ghosts and several hundred professions a more than just the popular classes. I didn’t think it would do very well, but the pay checks were steady.
I got up to the bar and was the only one there. I thought about my earlier statement. Maybe it had been about work, about seeing all those virtual lives generate and iterate and die off. The last thing I had tested was the non player character generation. I was a bit impressed with that part of the game, and I was sure there’d be few actual players that went that deep into it. Each NPC has a rich back story. They’re really just numbers in fields in spreadsheets, but the way it translates into the simulation of a life can get pretty spooky if you don’t think about it too hard.
Lost in my reverie I must have missed the bartender come back because she was serving another patron. Dude wanted a half dozen tequila shots. I groaned. But then she expertly set them up in a tight row and filled them all at once, spilling only a little.
As I watched her work my brain listed out her history in neat little rows and columns. Born twenty-ish years ago, public high school diploma, ten serious boy friends in the past, nothing now, several tattoos and piercings, has two cats at home, lives with a roommate, wants to be a vet, watches twenty hours of television a week, estranged from her father, talks to her mom on the weekends, vacations in Taho and goes snow boarding, owns a late model Toyota, is saving up money to visit Paris.
The man slapped down a fifty and she walked over to me.
“What can I get you?”
“Two Guinness please.” I said and held up two fingers in the peace sign just in case she didn’t hear me, it wasn’t that loud in the bar, but it came naturally. I think there’s a universal law somewhere that says your chances of getting how many of whatever you want increases dramatically when you use your fingers to count them out.
She went to fill up our glasses from the tap. The guy next to me had lined up his six shots of tequila. As he licked a bit of salt off the rim I started to project a spreadsheet over his life. Thirty five years old, business degree, wife and kid back at home, sleeping with his secretary on the side, has worked for the same company for a decade, drives a two year old Mercedes. He downed the drinks mechanically. Salt, tequila, lime, breathe. Salt, tequila, lime, breathe.
I wondered if he was in the game how he’d react to an amour clad adventurer or a scaly demon.
I noticed myself staring at him and turned my eyes to the back of the bar and its dark rainbow of liquor bottles.
“What’re you going on about?” Carl, my workmate slurred at me.
It was a celebratory Friday night. We had just delivered the software on time and under budget at this small game software company in Berkeley. Carl and I were Quality Assurance, the last essential step before going gold. It’s not actually burned onto a gold disk anymore, but the name has stuck over the years.
Carl belched and shoveled a few pretzels into his mouth. He chomped away at them for a minute then said, “Well, I feel like a sheep in a castle.”
I laughed, “That makes even less sense, man.”
“You started it.”
I noticed our beers were running short. “Same?” Meaning did he want the same beer as the last three. He frowned and nodded in response. And there in the dim bar light he suddenly seemed very old. Not necessarily wise and aged like a wizard, but more like a tired old shop keeper or down on his luck blacksmith. The game we had delivered was a clone of another massively popular game, but this one had a more realistic feel with ghosts and several hundred professions a more than just the popular classes. I didn’t think it would do very well, but the pay checks were steady.
I got up to the bar and was the only one there. I thought about my earlier statement. Maybe it had been about work, about seeing all those virtual lives generate and iterate and die off. The last thing I had tested was the non player character generation. I was a bit impressed with that part of the game, and I was sure there’d be few actual players that went that deep into it. Each NPC has a rich back story. They’re really just numbers in fields in spreadsheets, but the way it translates into the simulation of a life can get pretty spooky if you don’t think about it too hard.
Lost in my reverie I must have missed the bartender come back because she was serving another patron. Dude wanted a half dozen tequila shots. I groaned. But then she expertly set them up in a tight row and filled them all at once, spilling only a little.
As I watched her work my brain listed out her history in neat little rows and columns. Born twenty-ish years ago, public high school diploma, ten serious boy friends in the past, nothing now, several tattoos and piercings, has two cats at home, lives with a roommate, wants to be a vet, watches twenty hours of television a week, estranged from her father, talks to her mom on the weekends, vacations in Taho and goes snow boarding, owns a late model Toyota, is saving up money to visit Paris.
The man slapped down a fifty and she walked over to me.
“What can I get you?”
“Two Guinness please.” I said and held up two fingers in the peace sign just in case she didn’t hear me, it wasn’t that loud in the bar, but it came naturally. I think there’s a universal law somewhere that says your chances of getting how many of whatever you want increases dramatically when you use your fingers to count them out.
She went to fill up our glasses from the tap. The guy next to me had lined up his six shots of tequila. As he licked a bit of salt off the rim I started to project a spreadsheet over his life. Thirty five years old, business degree, wife and kid back at home, sleeping with his secretary on the side, has worked for the same company for a decade, drives a two year old Mercedes. He downed the drinks mechanically. Salt, tequila, lime, breathe. Salt, tequila, lime, breathe.
I wondered if he was in the game how he’d react to an amour clad adventurer or a scaly demon.
I noticed myself staring at him and turned my eyes to the back of the bar and its dark rainbow of liquor bottles.
Tuesday, 15 November 2011
73) Haunted House
From a pitch black sky lightning flashed. Thunder roared immediately after and a group of three kids shook in their shoes watching the show from a block away.
“Yeah, I’m not going in.” Brady said and backed up a step. “You can shove your dare where the sun don’t shine.”
“Ha, you scared?” Terrance asked and made crying motions with his fists on his face.
“Pssft, I saw you jump too.” Sharon said and elbowed Terrance in the ribs.
Lightning flashed and thunder rolled again. Sharon grabbed onto both of the boys’ arms and squeezed. They looked at each other and nodded simultaneously. Without another word they walked down the street towards the old Governor’s mansion.
Sharon released the boys and skipped a little then ran ahead of them. The two boys looked at each other then raced to follow her. They arrived at the gate just a moment behind her and rattled the chain link fence with their weight.
Brady pulled out an candy bar from his backpack and bit into it.
“How can you eat at a time like this?” Sharon said.
“What? I’m hungry. Being scared messes with my blood sugar.”
“Hey, guys, look!” Terrance exclaimed and pointed to the house.
“What?” Sharon and Brady said together.
Terrance grabbed the candy bar from Brady’s hand and tossed it over the fence and into the yard.
“I hate you.” Brady said and hit Terrance in the arm.
Terrance just laughed.
“Yeah, I’m not going in.” Brady said and backed up a step. “You can shove your dare where the sun don’t shine.”
“Ha, you scared?” Terrance asked and made crying motions with his fists on his face.
“Pssft, I saw you jump too.” Sharon said and elbowed Terrance in the ribs.
Lightning flashed and thunder rolled again. Sharon grabbed onto both of the boys’ arms and squeezed. They looked at each other and nodded simultaneously. Without another word they walked down the street towards the old Governor’s mansion.
Sharon released the boys and skipped a little then ran ahead of them. The two boys looked at each other then raced to follow her. They arrived at the gate just a moment behind her and rattled the chain link fence with their weight.
Brady pulled out an candy bar from his backpack and bit into it.
“How can you eat at a time like this?” Sharon said.
“What? I’m hungry. Being scared messes with my blood sugar.”
“Hey, guys, look!” Terrance exclaimed and pointed to the house.
“What?” Sharon and Brady said together.
Terrance grabbed the candy bar from Brady’s hand and tossed it over the fence and into the yard.
“I hate you.” Brady said and hit Terrance in the arm.
Terrance just laughed.
72) Domus the great
Once upon a time the ocean was full of giant sea turtles until they came in contact less and less, until they were only legend. Until the the great Domus drew his last breath.
Over the centuries Domis had acquired many guests on his prodigious shell. From the Umplings in their temporary grass teepees to the Humans in their more permanent mud huts and the Omnim in their spiky tress. Peace had reigned from beach edge to edge for generations. They had weathered storms together on Domis’s mile wide back. They had fought off sea dragons and sky demons.
One evening during the Quiet Moon festival, when all the Humans and Omnim and Umplings were out celebrating, the ground began to rumble. The scared Omnim flapped their useless stubby wings. The nervous Umplings sprinted away to their trees. The Humans all cried out and grabbed onto the ground. After several minutes of stronger and stronger shudderings a cry went out across the whole turtle, the sea was rising.
By morning all had been lost. Several humans waded in the choppy ocean and clung to debris. Soon silver ribbon sharks found and ate them all.
What was once of Domis returned to the ocean.
Over the centuries Domis had acquired many guests on his prodigious shell. From the Umplings in their temporary grass teepees to the Humans in their more permanent mud huts and the Omnim in their spiky tress. Peace had reigned from beach edge to edge for generations. They had weathered storms together on Domis’s mile wide back. They had fought off sea dragons and sky demons.
One evening during the Quiet Moon festival, when all the Humans and Omnim and Umplings were out celebrating, the ground began to rumble. The scared Omnim flapped their useless stubby wings. The nervous Umplings sprinted away to their trees. The Humans all cried out and grabbed onto the ground. After several minutes of stronger and stronger shudderings a cry went out across the whole turtle, the sea was rising.
By morning all had been lost. Several humans waded in the choppy ocean and clung to debris. Soon silver ribbon sharks found and ate them all.
What was once of Domis returned to the ocean.
Monday, 14 November 2011
71) Detention
Jerry wiggled and squirmed under my arm, but I wasn’t letting him go. It had taken a good half hour to catch him that last time and that was with the whole class chasing after him. Anyway, it was cold and snowy out and his wooly coat warmed me up a little since I was just wearing a t-shirt.
I looked up at the receptionist at her desk, a full human, asian and really old.
She said, “Yes?”
Jerry continued to squirm.
“My friend here transmogrified himself.” I had his wand in my back pocket next to mine. I was sure nether of them would do us any good. The spell reversal was way over our heads, we weren’t even supposed to know that one he had used.
“Didn’t you know that was a stupid thing to do?” She peered at me over her horned rimmed glasses.
“I know, I’m sorry, I kinda dared him.”
“You dared him?” I’d seen that look plenty of times before. It was the I-can’t-believe-you-really-did-that look.
“…” I bowed my head. Pain and embarrassment kept me quiet a little too late.
She stared at me for a few seconds, maybe trying to figure out how stupid we really were. “Fine, bring him into the nurse’s office.” She eventually relented and waved us back further in the teacher’s building.
“Baaa..” Jerry finally said.
We walked to the nurse’s office and I we sat on the paper covered bench to wait. I put Jerry down next to me, but kept a firm grip on him. Strangely he didn’t seem as skittish here. I glanced around the room at all the posters of naked humans and dragons and elfs and orcs with transparent guts and labels floating next to their bodies. Funny we can all go to school and treat each other the same and yet be so different on the inside.
The door opened and Jerry startled, but I kept a good hold on him. In came our school nurse, a hefty half orc. She pulled up a robust stool and sat directly across from us. I sat there nervously and tried not to stare at her stubby tusks pointing out a little bit from her mouth.
“Hi, I’m afraid we haven’t met. I’m Lucille. Your school nurse, obviously.” She said and giggled, “What’s your name?”
“I’m uh, Viktor Croce.” I stuttered. I was thinking of the Orc villains on my favorite cartoon shows. But that was dumb, this was the nurse and she was there to help. Her laugh was kind of cute and her tusks weren’t even that big.
She said, “So, what’s his name?”
“Jerry. He turned himself into a sheep.”
“Baaa…” Jerry said.
Lucille laughed and I couldn’t help but join her.
“So, Viktor, why don’t you leave Jerry here with me and I’ll see what I can do, ok?”
“Sure. Ok, great. Thank you.” I handed him over and left.
I turned the corner to go back to class and bumped into the Dean Stolux. Around campus dragons are required to keep their wings in at all times and wear a shrinking amulet. But even with the amulet the Dean was taller than the Girl’s P.E. teacher and twice as wide.
“Well well, Viktor Croce.”
“…”
“I hear you dared another student to transmogrify himself in a mirror?”
“Yes sir.”
He shook his big scaly head. “Here.”
He handed me a pink detention slip. I didn’t have a chance to look at the dates on it before he coughed and said, “Your parents have already been notified. Now be a good child and go directly to the Library.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He leaned back into the wall and gave me enough room to just squeeze by. I shoved the detention slip in my pocket and nearly ran out of the teacher’s building.
I looked up at the receptionist at her desk, a full human, asian and really old.
She said, “Yes?”
Jerry continued to squirm.
“My friend here transmogrified himself.” I had his wand in my back pocket next to mine. I was sure nether of them would do us any good. The spell reversal was way over our heads, we weren’t even supposed to know that one he had used.
“Didn’t you know that was a stupid thing to do?” She peered at me over her horned rimmed glasses.
“I know, I’m sorry, I kinda dared him.”
“You dared him?” I’d seen that look plenty of times before. It was the I-can’t-believe-you-really-did-that look.
“…” I bowed my head. Pain and embarrassment kept me quiet a little too late.
She stared at me for a few seconds, maybe trying to figure out how stupid we really were. “Fine, bring him into the nurse’s office.” She eventually relented and waved us back further in the teacher’s building.
“Baaa..” Jerry finally said.
We walked to the nurse’s office and I we sat on the paper covered bench to wait. I put Jerry down next to me, but kept a firm grip on him. Strangely he didn’t seem as skittish here. I glanced around the room at all the posters of naked humans and dragons and elfs and orcs with transparent guts and labels floating next to their bodies. Funny we can all go to school and treat each other the same and yet be so different on the inside.
The door opened and Jerry startled, but I kept a good hold on him. In came our school nurse, a hefty half orc. She pulled up a robust stool and sat directly across from us. I sat there nervously and tried not to stare at her stubby tusks pointing out a little bit from her mouth.
“Hi, I’m afraid we haven’t met. I’m Lucille. Your school nurse, obviously.” She said and giggled, “What’s your name?”
“I’m uh, Viktor Croce.” I stuttered. I was thinking of the Orc villains on my favorite cartoon shows. But that was dumb, this was the nurse and she was there to help. Her laugh was kind of cute and her tusks weren’t even that big.
She said, “So, what’s his name?”
“Jerry. He turned himself into a sheep.”
“Baaa…” Jerry said.
Lucille laughed and I couldn’t help but join her.
“So, Viktor, why don’t you leave Jerry here with me and I’ll see what I can do, ok?”
“Sure. Ok, great. Thank you.” I handed him over and left.
I turned the corner to go back to class and bumped into the Dean Stolux. Around campus dragons are required to keep their wings in at all times and wear a shrinking amulet. But even with the amulet the Dean was taller than the Girl’s P.E. teacher and twice as wide.
“Well well, Viktor Croce.”
“…”
“I hear you dared another student to transmogrify himself in a mirror?”
“Yes sir.”
He shook his big scaly head. “Here.”
He handed me a pink detention slip. I didn’t have a chance to look at the dates on it before he coughed and said, “Your parents have already been notified. Now be a good child and go directly to the Library.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He leaned back into the wall and gave me enough room to just squeeze by. I shoved the detention slip in my pocket and nearly ran out of the teacher’s building.
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