One could almost feel sorry for the ducks. Or me, now that he owes me for a shirt as well as the ballroom floor. Should start carrying around the tally in my pocket, just in case I need to add to it or might actually get a reckoning.
Mad old man. What is he doing, returning to the city so brazenly? I thought I had a death wish
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Two deeply misunderstood men, both irritably misunderstanding each other. (I root for the ducks.)
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