[This week in mayfield had been especially rough on everyone. Hitler was no exception. Since the only other person in his house was a robot, he'd decided it was safer to drink the milk himself. So he went down every morning, snagged a bottle, and hid in his room. Every day. And every day, he'd gotten the poison. So he'd been dead for most of the
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What're you doin'?
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I'm making these. They're called 'Almighty Dollies.' It's kind of like a good luck charm back where I come from.
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[ He leans in closer to take a look at it, laughing a bit at the name. ]
What is it, a sheep or somethin'?
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I'm making them because, after this week, I feel like people could use a little luck.
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You're probably right about that. But I'm not really sure how useful a fancy sheep would be in that department.
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And so far, all the people I've given them to seem to really like them.
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I guess if you can get murdered by milk, why can't ya get saved by a sheep?
[ Firo gives the sheep an absent-minded poke, then looks back at Hitler. ]
You're pretty good at sewin'. What's your name?
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[And he holds back a sigh and braces for the inevitable discussion.]
My name is Adolf Hitler.
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Nice ta' meet'cha, Adolf. I'm Firo Prochainezo.
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Likewise.
[He holds up the most recently finished sheep.]
Would you like one?
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You don't mind partin' with it?
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Do ya mind if I pass this onto somebody else? I'll tell 'em who it came from. I think they need it more than I do.
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[Hmm... he's done green, blue, and black already today. So how about red? And he'll pair that with a little golden bell.]
Here you go.
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