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One day a group of renegade mice decided to sneak into the right breast pocket of my shirt. Curious to see what they would do I restrained the reflex to brush them off and looked on. Two of scoundrels grabbed a pencil and drew a cheese so big that it could feed ten of them. The chubbier third mouse balanced himself precariously on top of the pocked as he wrestled with another pencil. The cheese looked delicious, but I knew that their efforts were in vain. You can’t eat what you draw (and enjoy it) no matter how hard you try. Silly mice.
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