Happy Life
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We used to submit six or eight entries, I don't remember exactly. And we didn't rent anything, because everything took place in our school building. There wasn't much there anyway. Except for a fire show, where the performer's unwashed hair caught fire, and he ran around screaming instead of putting it out. Until he finally doused himself with Obolon beer.
My sword, my trusted ally, unphased by my aspect.
