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  • The Masquerade

    In a word, argh. Our local deli by my office food poisoned me. Not the "Get sick, barf, 24 hours, all good" type either. The "week long raging fever and feeling of near death" type. Thus my words are tempered by pestilence this week.

    I must also raise the official count of how many other CSers I have met to 1. Now that a rate has been established, I can confidently say I will get around to meeting all the regulars by the time I hit my 80s. Please try not to die before me.

    Also, you will note, it was Halloween. Thus it is time for my yearly downtown Costume Round-up.








    Here We Go Again

    Ah, yes. A new, fresh, sparkling lottery. Which means new, fresh, sparkling questions th-oh who am I kidding. It’s the exact same diseased set of inquiries as every other lottery before it. Swirling around me in a vortex of banality. So, yet again, no I cannot arrange to have you be issued random ticket numbers. They will be sequential. Whether you like it or not. There is no statistical difference and any mystical “luck” you hope to gain by having random numbers over sequential numbers is little more than self delusion. If you truly must garner more good fortune there are any number of websites that can offer you a host of rituals, charms and possibly live animals that are rumoured to provided such benefits. I mean it’s said that those who spot a unicorn are truly blessed and pure of heart. And such a sighting can be yours for the low cost of some epoxy, a can of spray paint, a traffic cone and a trespassing charge onto the ranch. Then you can spent the next 30 days of community service avoiding ladders, black cats and the like.

    Then when you do end up winning a $50 London Drug’s gift card ( In exchange for $500 worth of tickets ) you can pat yourself on the back for bending your very destiny to your will by keeping a horseshoe clenched between your butt cheeks on a daily basis for 3 months. Clearly its good luck, and possibly tetanus, rubbed off on you.




    FREE ME

    I would like to introduce you to Marge…..the Time Eater. I know not what void between realities this terrible maw crawled out from to blight the mortal world but there is little we can do now except try to wait it out. <Coworker> was her first victim, having lost near 10 minutes trapped in her terrible jaws as she attempted to wrangled her credit card number. A struggle so futile she ultimately failed. But the beast was not yet satiated. Oh no. Such an unfathomable creature would never be sated upon a single human soul. It would have more.

    Thus I found myself dragged into its gaping feed hole and promptly learned a series of cankerous facts about this beast that I did not request nor have any interest in. Such as that she was 87 years old. That I talk to fast. That <coworker> talked too fast. That a show she was watching was too long so now she was really tired. That I should have all of her information already because she gave it to <coworker> despite the fact she hung up on <coworker>. That she had no idea what a credit card number was and it took her forever to find it despite the extremely easy to follow directions of “Look at it and tell me the numbers on the front.”.

    But now she had located these numbers finally, and wanted to finish her order. But was utterly displeased that I did not know who she was, where she was and what she wanted. As I should have all of this information through some sort of hive mind neural link that I supposedly share with every other operator here. And the fact that I do not have this information is a travesty. I should immediately leave the building and run <coworker> down. So that I may beat her brutally until she ceases her’s struggles and consents to being dragged back to the office to service the Brood Queen and complete her order.

    Then, of course, after wasting my time for another 15 minutes she refused to give me any more of her information again as she had already given it to <coworker>. Who after being hung up obviously had no reason to keep it but lets not interject rationality into this discussion. Thus our magical time together finally came to an end. But who knows when or where the beast will resurface. We can only wait, watch and fear.




    Those Meddling Kids

    SC: “I’m in custody, this is urgent. I just woke up in this place.”

    You just woke up in jail with no knowledge of how you got there? So you’ve either reached the end result of a fantastical bender or this is some sort of elaborate police state conspiracy to keep The Man™ ( represented by yourself, of course ) down. Gee, I wonder which scenario you’re going to go with?


    SC: “I’m charged with robbery but there isn’t really any evidence against me.”

    Man Suppression, got it. You’re perfectly and completely innocent. They snuck into your house while you were sitting in front of Teletoon watching a rerun of Thundercats, fist deep in a litre of Ben & Jerry’s Chubby Hubby and chloroformed you. Then locked you up in a cell and made up some bogus charges just to repress you, man. They’re nothing but pigs, man.



    SC: “Except for the witnesses.”

    ….they have no evidence again you except for the witnesses? I assume the witnesses are in on this conspiracy too and are just fingering you with the crime. This is all a set up, man. I mean clearly you would never have any trouble with the law! You’re an upstanding citizen with a perfect record that just happens to have to keep a criminal lawyer on retainer because the cops keep coming up with these strange conspiracies to pin on you.



    Fabulous Prizes

    Me: “Are you calling to place an order?”
    SC: “Yes.”
    Me: “Alright-“
    SC: “Did I win yet?”

    You’ve won something alright. My eternal scorn and disdain. Probably not quite the prize you were hoping for. But beggar’s can’t be choosers. Be glad you’re at least technically walking away a winner. If you’re not satisfied with that particular prize, there are a number of other alternative and runner up prizes available such as my dislike, my disgust, my loathing, my repugnance, my detest, my resentment and of course the old time favourite: My abject hatred.

    You can enter for a chance at all of these prizes and more completely free. All you have to do is call.



    The Internet Changes Everything

    Me: “Good evening, <company that clearly has nothing to do with travel>”
    SC: “Hello?”
    Me: “Hi, can I help you?”
    SC: “I’m trying to see where….when did my flight take off and when does it get here?”

    …when did your flight take off and when does it get there? An unusual pairing of inquiries. Are you not on your flight? Or are you on your flight but just now rousing from a drunken stupor and have no idea how you came to be on an airplane? Is the last thing you remember being fist deep in a litre of Ben & Jerry’s Chubby Hubby? Because if so I may have an explanation.


    Me: “You have the wrong number.”
    SC: “What is this?”
    Me: “This is <company>”
    SC: “So this is not the place….what is this? What do you do?”
    Me: “We're a web hosting service.”
    SC: “Oh….so, you don’t fly?”

    Only for a limited period and dependent entirely on the height of the building I throw myself off. My maiden voyage would likely my last voyage as well. While I have not yet set a date for the launch of this voyage, I must point out that people such as yourself are rapidly hastening my departure.


    Me: “No….”
    SC: “Cus I got your number off the Internet.”

    Oh, well, off the Internet you say? In that case of course! I have everything to do with airplanes! By all means, tell me your flight number and I will pull every single detail of the flight right down to the part number of the toilet seats out of the very air around me.




    RAEG

    SC: “This is frustrating me to the point where I didn’t sleep a wink last night I was so angry!! YOU WILL FIX THIS RIGHT NOW!”

    I want you to analyze the above statement. This man is so angry and frustrated that he could not sleep the entire night. Obviously something horrific and traumatic must have occurred to have stressed him out so badly. Something utterly terrible that could have left such a deep psychological wound. Let along caused him to simmer with rage for over 8 hours to the point of not being able to sleep.

    So what was thing you ask? Well, apparently, he typo'd his phone number when he entered an order online. Yep, that’s it. That is the truly heinous crime we have committed against his family, mother and dog that caused over 8 hours of sleepless rage. Don’t take this the wrong way dude ( Because I’m afraid you’ll hurt me ) but I think you have much deeper problems here than just your typing skills.




    How Are You Confused?

    Me: “And the product number, please?”
    SC: “xxxx”
    Me: “Alright, what size?”
    SC: “8 and a half”
    Me: “Alright-“
    SC: “Are those men’s shoes?”

    …..that’s a most baffling question. I would think the gender assignment would be rather blatantly advertised. But perhaps there’s something misprinted in the new catalog…….lessee…..hmm….nope, that quite clearly states "Women's Nike Shox" in “Women’s Sizes” and in the "Women's Footwear" section. Or were you perhaps looking on the website? I could understand the confusion there. They might be mislabeled on the website an-……hmm, nope, “Women’s Nike Shox". So that's not it.

    Which leaves only one, sadly common, explanation: You’re an idiot.



    ..Did You Really Say That?

    Me: “and what size?”
    SC: “What chu talkin’ bout?”

    …..right, first of all my name is not Willis. Second of all, I am referring to the size of the garment you have requested. I realize the gene pool in your area may be desperately shallow thus resulting in everyone there being of roughly the same equivalent size and shape. But the rest of the world has some measure of genetic diversity and thus clothes have some measure of size variation. Here, I’ll even make it easy for you: Little, round, big, really big, really really big or tarp?



    I Should Know Better

    Me: “Alright, do you have a box number?”
    SC: “Yes.”
    Me: “…….?”
    SC: “……….”

    I….suppose that’s actually my fault. Sometimes I forget who I’m dealing with. I’m not sure how I forget, but I do. In fact, I would dearly love to know how I forget so that I could forget you and your ilk every day the moment I leave the office.



    Thou Doth Protest Too Much

    SC: “There’s been a great mistake! You charged $100 to my credit card! I have not joined your organization!”
    Me: “….Are you sure you’re calling the right number?”
    SC: “Yes! It says Hot Singles!”
    Me: “I’m sorry, but you’re calling the wrong number.”
    SC: “How do I have the wrong number? This is the number at the top of the website!”

    ITS ON THE INTERNET IT MUST BE TRUE. Because if there's one thing the World Wide Web is known for, its being a bastion of truth and integrity where you can virtually take anyone's word at face value as the gospel. It is a shining beacon of purity in our otherwise dangerous world.

    Also, anal porn. Purity and anal porn.



    SC: “I do not need a singles network to meet somebody!!”

    Right……you’re so confident in your ability to attract a mate that you feel the need to randomly defend yourself to a total stranger at a completely unrelated company which you have dialed in error. Somehow I doubt the veracity of your statement.




    ....What?

    SC: "What company is this?"
    Me: "This is <company>"
    SC: "Oh.....uh...."
    Me: "....?"
    SC: “Are you a spellcaster?”

    I…d….wha…that is the oddest question I have ever been asked on a call I think. But no, I am not a spellcaster per say. I will admit to the occasional dark ritual in an attempt to harm a caller such as yourself or otherwise plague them with dire misfortune. But I wouldn’t say that qualifies me as a spellcaster. More of a dabbler. Possibly a hedge wizard or low grade warlock. But not a fully fledged spellcaster, oh no. You need a license for that and I don't photograph well.



    The Fugitive

    Me: “Are you in custody?”
    SC: “Um, I’d rather not say.”
    Me: “Alright, well you need to be in custody or otherwise have an emergency for me to contact a lawyer this late.”
    SC: “Let’s just say I should be in custody. Is that enough?”

    Ahh, on the run are you and the net is closing in? Humour me a moment here, but what advice or council are you seeking from your lawyer about this situation? Shouldn’t you just turn yourself in and then call your lawyer? What do you think your lawyer is going to do? Give you advice on how to lay low till the heat is off? Hook you up with a fake passport? Hide you in his basement? I think you’re misinterpreting the function of a lawyer here. Yes, they are here to defend you from persecution by the law. But it is in a court of law. Not just in general. He’s not going to bake a file into a cake for you.


    Just. Argh.

    SC: “Hi, can I get a cab?”
    Me: “You have the wrong number.”
    SC: “Oh, ok. Can I get a cab though?”

    Congratulations! That actually caused me to stop and sort of work my jaw silently trying to figure out how you could have possibly uttered such a stupid statement. After this many years on this shift I was fairly confident I had an explanation for most of the stupidity that raged around me and mentally likened myself to someone who had been locked in the monkey habitat at the zoo for the night. And thus had no choice but to simply remain inside until everyone came back in the morning to let me out. But this, this goes beyond the monkey pen theory. The monkeys in the pen with me can at least grasp simple concepts and are fairly intelligent for the animal kingdom at least. But you, you are not a monkey. You are some drunk, naked dude that broke into the zoo afterhours because he thought a pet walrus would be totally awesome. Only to fall into the monkey pen by accident and knock himself out cold. Where he will be found in the morning by the zookeepers. Butt naked and covered in monkey fur and various monkey excretions.




    2010 Halloween Round-up

    The tragic masquerade that is Vancouver’s Halloween weekend has begun! Along with it, I begin my distant mockery of all those involved:



    Dollar Store Clown Posse:

    There were actually nine separate people sporting this particular level of effort. If you can find two colours of face paint a dollar store you too can have this particular costume and join the ranks of……..oh what’s the term again. Help me out here Internet, I’m not sad enough to know these things off hand….ah there we are. Juggalos. In the event you mercifully do not know what I speak of let me destroy that naive happiness you find yourself in by explaining: The “Insane Clown Posse” apparently has fans. Who refer to themselves as “Juggalos”. They wear makeup. Awful makeup. Halloween gives them an excuse to wear this awful makeup in public with only some shame.

    They also do not know how magnets work. ( Fucking magnets! )




    Raggedy Anne & The Salvation Army

    I recognize Raggedy Anne. However, I don’t think Raggedy Anne’s friend recognizes Raggedy Anne. As Raggedy Anne’s friend has just assumed that Raggedy Anne put on a random assortment of bright clothing and called it a costume instead of a specific character. Thus I assume Raggedy Anne’s friend has robbed a thrift store at gunpoint and is now trying to blend into the crowd before the police arrive by wearing half of what she stole.



    Sexy Smurf & Lazy Smurf

    Well, technically, they’re both lazy Smurf but at least Sexy Smurf looked at least vaguely like Smurfette. While Lazy Smurf was simply a generic Smurf. But honestly, awarding either the title of “Smurf” is giving them far too much credit. As Sexy Smurf simply painted herself blue, tossed on a white dress and a white toque and called it a night. Whereas Lazy Smurf couldn’t even be bothered with that. As he has simply painted his face then tossed on a white toque and a white t-shirt with blue jeans. Truly, he is a master of disguise.

    Neither one painted their hands blue and both appeared to have attempted the application themselves without the aid of a mirror. Resulting in two Smurfs that look to have some sort of terrible skin condition.


    “Smile If You Masturbate” Guy

    I….don’t actually think this was a costume or that he was even aware it was near Halloween. It was just a guy with a cardboard sign that said “Smile If You Masturbate” asking for spare change up by Granville…….




    Mickey vs Alcatraz

    Because nothing says Disney like Mickey Mouse screaming “YOU MOTHER FUCKER YOU WANNA GO?!” and assaulting a guy in a prison outfit…….right next to the “Smile If You Masturbate” guy.



    The Elopers

    This was actually kind of disturbing. A couple dressed as a bride & groom. As that brings up a number of strange scenarios. Either they are a married couple who, lacking of anything else, decided to just pull out several hundred dollars worth of their wedding clothes and tromp around Broadway Station ( and really, if your wedding dress has a train that drags along the ground what better place to sweep with it then the floor of Broadway Station ). Or they’re not married and one of them thought this would be a cute idea. The other is currently terrified and trying to figure out how to pack their stuff and flee the apartment after they get home without waking up their counterpart.



    One Prop Wonders:

    Another common theme that is either derived from a lack of effort or a “Oh crap! You didn’t tell me it was a costume party! Quick, pull in to the Dollar Store on the way there!”. This is where the offender has one awful plastic prop and is attempting to pass it off as a costume. This evenings offenders:

    A plastic Viking helmet does not make you a Viking. Vikings do not wear Nike track pants. Handcuffs do not make you “Prisoner”. Especially if you have real ones. That just raises a lot of uncomfortable questions in your social circle. A nurse’s hat does not make you a nurse. Especially when you have simply taken the slutastic way you dress normally on a Friday night and added the hat in an attempt at “Sexy Nurse”. The attempt is failing. Finally, a beach ball does not make you….a…..er…..what the hell are you trying to be by carting around a beach ball?



    Saturday Night Fever

    First of all I would like to thank you for riding the escalator in front of me thus insuring this was right at eye level for me. Second of all I realize you’re attempting the John Travolta look. An integral part of which is fantastical white pants. What you have seemingly neglected however is to notice the utterly revolting crusty brown stain on the groin of your fantastical white pants. I do not wish to know what it’s from nor will I even begin to surmise.



    The Greener Lantern

    THE GREEN LANTERN DOES NOT HAVE MAN TITS. Oh God. You do not belong in spandex. You should not be allowed anywhere near spandex. There should be a court order preventing you from touching spandex. Oh sweet merciful mother of god you have tights on too and they are leaving nothing to the imagination. Why do you do this? What has society done to you that you must unleashed this upon us? Dear lord those are on so tight you can count the hairs.



    Cat In The Hat vs Nacho Libre

    Actually the Cat In The Hat costume was quite good. Problem is he was being beaten up by a Mexican wrestler with a towel for a cape. Also, yet more spandex was involved. It was not a pretty sight.




    Rocky

    Good costume, poor planning. Dressing up as Rocky Balboa means boxing shorts and, well, not much else. Which means this Rocky was a huddled, shivering wreck in the cold and rain outside this evening.


    Pink…..?

    Head to toy neon pink furry bodysuit. But….no mask on and not carrying a mask. So….just…a regular guy except from the neck down nothing but neon pink furry bodysuit. I’m sure there’s an explanation for this, but I for one do not know what it is.



    For The Ladies

    Hello, ladies! It’s me! Your friendly neighbourhood…..uh….random guy on the street? I’m here with some advice for you as many of you this evening seem to be tragically mistaken about municipal services and the service industry in general.

    First of all, and this may come as a shock, but the standard police officer uniform does not include fishnet stockings. Neither does the standard fire fighter uniform. Neither of them require you to wear an unbuttoned blouse and no bra either. Also, while a police officer does carry handcuffs with which to restrain a suspect. They do not brandish them wildly at passing men and threaten to “punish” them for “being bad boys”. Finally, I should note that neither the police nor fire dept includes miniskirts and high heels on their list of standard equipment.

    Secondly, and again there seems to be a bit of a pattern here. But the standard flight attendant uniform likewise does not include fishnet stockings, miniskirts, high heels or an open blouse. Also, please, please please for the love of God wear underwear. When I look around the Skytrain I do not suddenly want to suddenly find myself staring into the Abyss. The dark, dark wild growth of the Abyss. <shudder>. I'm not sure I can accurately encapsulate my feelings at that singular moment. I can only say you near shifted my alignment away from Lawful Hetero.

    Thirdly, those in the medical profession…..yet again…..do not wear miniskirts, fishnets, high heels and an open blouse. Really, the lot of you have a rather bizarrely warped mental image going on here. Yet there does seem to be a rather surprising amount of common elements.

    Finally, I'm pretty sure even Little Red Riding Hood was smart enough to not wear a black bra with a white blouse.



    Don’t Feel Left Out

    Guys! You didn’t think I forgot you, did you? Of course not! I am nothing if not an equal opportunity asshole. Some of you out there tonight need some advice as well.

    Firstly, if your costume required you to wax or oil your chest you should probably consider something else. If it required you to wax or oil anything else, you’re probably going to be arrested. Please note that many of us, including the fine members of law enforcement in this city, will probably not appreciate the time and care that went into your manscaping.

    Secondly, if your costume has a prop affixed to the crotch such as say a traffic cone or a banana. Then just stop. No. You have made a tragic error in judgment and should turn back now. Also, do not offer bananas to random females on the street either.

    Thirdly, stay away from spandex. Please, I’m begging you. There is only a very small select range of people on this earth that can get away with spandex and they are either in movies or have participated in an Olympic event. You are neither of these. You are a shopping bag full of pancake batter and potatoes with a live cat in the middle struggling for freedom. Please don’t.

    Finally……ok seriously, stop it. If your costume involves your dick in any way, don’t. I don’t care if it plays music. Stop it.



    The Incredible Bulk

    Thanks to you, I have come to the conclusion that body paint has committed more crimes against humanity than anyone or thing in history.



    The Evening’s Entertainment

    Do you know what’s surprisingly entertaining? Watching a guy with giant plastic Wolverine claws on both hands trying to touch up his facial make up without blinding himself.



    The Lowest Common Halloween Denominator

    Pro-tip: If your costume involves flannel you have already failed at Halloween and should probably just turn around and go home. You may be attempting a One Prop Wonder by going for the generic “psycho killer” look with a plastic knife or hockey mask. But flannel is an automatic failure.



    The “Scream” Mask

    The only thing lower on the Halloween Dignity Scale than flannel and spandex.



    Not A Good Idea

    If all you have is a big rubber troll mask and have no idea what to do with the rest of your body…..do not go with a trench coat. Please. It gives off an entirely different impression than you were hoping for I’m sure. Unless you were aiming for “Shrek: Sex Offender”.


    Whose Bad?

    Good: A picture perfect Michael Jackson costume from the Thriller era complete with the red jacket, pants and glove. Bad: Dressing your short male friend up as a little boy so you may drag him around Granville and grope him. Worse: Asking the guy dressed as a doctor at the corner if he can write you a prescription.





    annnnnd rest.

  • #2
    Alas I cannot top the attrocities you have described. I live in Salem, Mass. The epicenter of Halloween and all of it's insanity. I watched the Purple Teletubby cavort up and down Essex Street. I saw Gumby, Pokey, Spike (the lizard dude, remember?), I saw various trolls and of course the standrad witches and vampires. (Graciously, none of the vampires had glitter on their faces. It made me hopeful to humanity that Twilight's taint did not stain my beloved Salem)

    My Halloween horrors took place at the workplace. And I work in an office supply store. I shall chronicle them shortly but I am presently trying to hit 4,000 words on the first day of my nanowrimo project.
    Last edited by Dips; 11-01-2010, 05:40 PM.

    Comment


    • #3
      Hey, bonus about missing work today!! I get to read a Gravekeeper post as soon as it comes out!!

      I love the costume roundups, they are both amusing and terrifying in equal measures. Sorry to hear you were sick, though. Hope you're feeling better.

      Comment


      • #4
        Hope you feel better soon.
        I had a generic Halloween geez, you seem to have all the fun.
        Oh wook at teh widdle babeh dwaggin! How cyuuute babeh dwag-AAAAAAAUUUGGGHHHH! *nom*
        http://jennovazombie.deviantart.com

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        • #5
          Nooooo not spandex!

          "hides in corner*
          Arp happens!

          Just when I was getting used to yesterday, along came today.

          Comment


          • #6
            Quoth Gravekeeper View Post
            Rocky

            Good costume, poor planning. Dressing up as Rocky Balboa means boxing shorts and, well, not much else. Which means this Rocky was a huddled, shivering wreck in the cold and rain outside this evening.
            ouch, you'd think he'd at least get a dressing gown and scrawl "Rocky" on the bake with sharpies, it's be a lot lot warmer
            "You can only try so hard to look like you are working before actually doing your work seems easy in comparison" -My Boss

            CW: So what exactly do you do in retentions?
            Me: ummm, I ....retent stuff?

            Comment


            • #7
              The costume involving the man's penis playing music, could you expl

              NO, don't explain. I'm sure this is one of the things I would rather not know about.

              Comment


              • #8
                Quoth Gravekeeper View Post
                I must also raise the official count of how many other CSers I have met to 1.
                HEY! You caught up to me! And you actually have a plan to meet more... curse you and your ambition...
                Life's too short to drink cheap beer

                Comment


                • #9
                  Quoth Gravekeeper
                  Jesus, I barely just hit submit. -.-
                  Hope I didn't creep you out. I truly swear I wasn't just...waiting for you...waiting for the moment that I could pounce...do I...frighten you?

                  Comment


                  • #10
                    Quoth Gravekeeper View Post
                    I must also raise the official count of how many other CSers I have met to 1. Now that a rate has been established, I can confidently say I will get around to meeting all the regulars by the time I hit my 80s. Please try not to die before me.
                    Wasn't me, was it? I had a busy week.

                    Rapscallion

                    Comment


                    • #11
                      Last year I saw a little boy in a Rocky costume. He was smart enough to have the shorts AND the shiny robe with 'Balboa' on the back.
                      https://www.facebook.com/authorpatriciacorrell/

                      Comment


                      • #12
                        Best costume I ever saw on Halloween, aside from my own Death robes when I worked at Rank Aid, was a guy dressed as 47. Right down to the barcode tattoo that may or may not have been temporary.

                        I had fun with the guy.

                        Me: Dude, you failed. Look, there's security cameras all over this place. Diana is going to have your ass in a sling over this.

                        He just laughed and paid for his stuff.

                        Comment


                        • #13
                          My 10 year old daughter won a costume contest last night.
                          She was the ghost of Amelia Earhart.
                          I love that very strange child.
                          Life's too short to drink cheap beer

                          Comment


                          • #14
                            I was looking forward all week to the costume roundup. Surprised there weren't any customes from the Slut Animal Kingdom this year.

                            And can we call this topic "Costumers Suck?"
                            To right the countless wrongs of our days... We shine this light of true redemption, that this place may become as paradise...Oh, what a wonderful world such would be...

                            Comment


                            • #15
                              I hope you're feeling better.

                              And that collection of costumes you witnessed is impressive. I'm sorry you had to see all that spandex, though
                              "So, let's build a snowman! We can make him our best friend. We can name him Bob or we can name him Beowulf! We can make him tall, or we can make him not so tall!"

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