[There's a rustle of plastic 'easter grass' and the soft sound of egg enamel with hard-boiled center rolling on mahogany.
A small, girl-sized hand gently, methodically places a line of colored eggs on a table in the main foyer, arranging them in alphabetical order. Looks like someone's been playing America's egg hunt for all the less enthusiastic
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Hey! Where did you get this candy?
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[Jumps down from her high place, hitting the ground with some speed due to the height, but with utmost grace also.]
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I've just been hunting real eggs.
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...but you can't eat all of them!
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...you have a bad memory?
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