Rory had had a very, very busy weekend. She'd woken up and put band-aids on John, cheered up a tree with Luke, then played at the beach with Anakin, who she was gonna marry when she got big enough. She'd also played with Rikku and Vladdie and a kittycat, and then today she'd gone upstairs and found ICE CREAM. And a BEAR
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This could end badly.
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The box of cookies came plummeting towards the ground.
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She sort of succeeded, inasmuch as the box took her down with it.
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There was a train of thought there.
Somewhere.
Maybe.
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Not that she was, of course.
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Luke was not very smart sometimes.
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