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The Dinner

The staff were lovely, especially the one with the pointed beard the shape of a fine paintbrush, who continually probed us about if, “anyone would notice if we suddenly disappeared.” Such a charming fellow with his abnormal sense of humor! His skills with a blade were exquisite as well, and his butchering of the dinner bird was equal parts spectacle and morbid curiosity. A true artist. And the woman with the long Xanadu coat, the one who kept her hands inside her sleeves with nothing protruding except your exotic peacock feather duster, polishing your trinkets and staring at us with a crooked look in her eye, viewing us like travelers from other worlds; she was fun too.



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