And then he rounded around the door and assumed his most crooked and vile of smiles, those he reserved only for his most heinous of cons and crimes. It was as easy to put on as an old pair of jeans.
"That's the beauty of Luceti, pumpkin. There's always New Feathers."
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"That's the beauty of Luceti, pumpkin. There's always New Feathers."
And then he put his strength into closing it.