Feston's eyebrow raises while he looks toward the sound and the nearest window. A thougth comes to him and he streatches his back as an exuse to take a small step away from the squire and closer to the nearest table. He makes a small glance to see wether or not it is conected to the floor. He holds his grin while he does this.
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Who's bright idea was it to stave off natural selection by putting warning labels onto household items?
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