The Sexiest Story Ever Told – X Rated

man and woman no color

Well, now that I have got your attention, I will tell you a secret.  I lied.  This will probably not be the sexiest story ever told.  It will however, be a slightly sexy story.  The title seemed like a good way to get you to listen to my strange but true tale.  Not many people will believe me but I swear it really happened.  It took place, 20 years ago in the year 2255.  Connubial sex had been banned nearly 150 years earlier in 2107.

black man white womanI need to back up a bit as you must understand some mitigating factors.  Most people of my generation today have no idea about why mutual sex was abolished.  With hind sight, it may seem a little like throwing the baby out with the bath water.  However, around the year 2090, war, terrorism and violence had become so common that everyone agreed something must be done about it.  A group of the leading thinkers in the world formed a committee to see whether aggression could be stopped.  They accepted the fact that most savage and brutal actions were committed by males of the species.  Throughout history, men have fought wars over territory, money, power, fame and women.  Men were responsible for most murders, robberies, rapes and crimes against women.  The committee noted that the underlying drive behind male aggression was a preponderance of the hormone testosterone.  A theory was proposed that if something could be done to reduce the amount of male testosterone, a corresponding drop in world violence would take place.

Working on the afore mentioned theory, several scientists soon located the gene for male testosterone.  A simple means of genetically altering the chromosomes producing testosterone was subsequently found.  Next, it was decided by a secret government committee that any female pregnant with a baby boy would be given an injection which would effectively neuter the gene that produced male testosterone.  At first, it was tried only in California.  The results were so positive that the practice soon spread to every state in the USA and eventually every country in the world adopted the method.

erotic image of two people

By the year 2100, war, rape, domestic abuse, assaults and road rage had become things of the past.  The “new” male was peaceable, pliant, cooperative and extremely non-aggressive.  The only problem was that the anatomy of a man that was not supposed to be pliant was now perpetually pliant.  It was found that without the aid of testosterone, the male genitalia would remain more flexible than inflexible.  Some looked for a cure for this problem, but having destroyed the genes that produce testosterone, there was now none available for any medicinal purposes.  Even more detrimental to the reproduction of the species was the fact that most men no longer exhibited any sex drive or interest in procreation.

delicious-black-loversThe solution was political rather than biological.  The “Birth Act of 2107” decreed that any physical conjoining of men and women was illegal and immoral.  The Supreme High Committee decided that since ancient methods of reproduction were now unreliable, the only way that women could have a baby was by artificial insemination.  First, a prospective mother would need to file a permit for a license.  Once having a license approved (the present birth rate was a critical factor in licensing decisions) a woman could then go to a birth clinic where she would be impregnated using a glass syringe.  Male sperm was collected by harvesting willing males who were paid a fee for their production.  Collected specimens were then sent to a national sperm bank to be cataloged and eventually matched with appropriate recipients.

art,collision,couples,hug-a0f1e155fe157b9d44e4442c55d61efa_iNow as you know, life will always produce mutations.  Genetic anomalies that defy the common strain of biology.  And so, several years ago, a male baby was born with the genes to develop testosterone.  His parents were not aware of this fact until he reached his pre-teens at which point his unique physical abilities were more than obvious.  Unsure what the repercussions would be, his mother advised him not to tell anyone.  His parents assumed that he could quite easily hide his sometimes-awkward condition from his peers and society at large. This strategy worked for many years.  During this time, Adam tried to exercise his abilities as discreetly as possible.

Fortunately, or unfortunately for Adam, his unique proficiency soon developed quite a coterie of female followers.  Upon hearing rumors of Adam’s prowess, many young women wanted to sample his talents for themselves.  There was ample testimony that Adam’s skills in impregnating a woman was a much more pleasant way of going about the birth process then a glass syringe.

Before long, his neighbors noted the large number of nubile women coming and going from Adam’s home.  Eventually, one of them (no one knows who) contacted the National Security Agency to report the strange situation of so many women showing up at Adam’s house.  The agency sent an investigator who questioned several of the women before they entered Adam’s house.  Each one simply said that Adam was a friend and that they were only visiting him.

Tuff-girls-line

The situation was reported to the Chief of the National Security Agency.  He suspected that there might be more than just visiting going on.  The Chief decided that he needed someone to infiltrate and get the goods on Adam first hand.  He chose to seek a woman officer for the mission and was surprised when most of the female employees at the National Security Agency volunteered.  He pondered whether he should select an agent based on seniority or attractiveness.  Seniority was dictated by agency rules, but intuition told him that an informant might have a better chance of being accepted by Adam if they were attractive.  He picked his most beautiful officer for the operation.  Officer Eve was over joyed with the assignment and swore she would do her best.

jump suit

Eve was outfitted with a tight-fitting jump suit and dropped off several blocks from Adam’s house.  A spy bot was positioned outside Adam’s domicile complete with a video camera and communication with Agency headquarters.  In about thirty minutes, Eve showed up at Adam’s door and tapped his door alarm.  Adam went to the door and took one look at Eve.  He had no hesitation about allowing Officer Eve access.

Several hours went by and monitors at the station headquarters began to think that something had gone wrong.  Possible interruption of the operation was contemplated but the Chief felt that it was too soon to compromise Eve’s cover.  It was decided to give Eve another thirty minutes and if she did not communicate during this time, they would assault Adam’s house.  With less than ten minutes to go, much to everyone’s surprise, Eve suddenly walked out of the house looking quite cheerful.

“What the heck” thought the Chief and all the agency monitors.  “No go ahead call or any interdiction messages from Eve.  What had been going on during the five hours that Eve had been inside?”  As soon as Eve arrived by at station headquarters, they would find out.

Eve walked in to the headquarters and was barraged with questions: “What happened?”  “Are you, alright?”  “What is this guy up to?”  “What did you do with all that time while you were inside?”

Eve rather nonchalantly answered:  “Adam loves to play chess.  We had a great game of chess.  He has invited me back to play again.  I hope the agency will be all right with that?”

chinese lovers

The Chief was very suspicious and decided to send another agent in.  This action was repeated several times but the results were always the same.  Female agent after agent came back marveling at the great game of chess that Adam played.  Many other female agents offered to infiltrate Adam’s residence but finally the agency Chief reluctantly decided that they were spending too much time with too few results.  The operation was aborted.  The Chief went back to his paperwork and the agents found other work to do.

Approximately, nine months later, all of the security agents that had been used as infiltrators at Adams had applied for pregnancy leave.

Well, that’s the whole story.  Everything I have told you is true although I am telling you twenty years after the fact.  You see, I just heard the story yesterday.  My mother Eve waited twenty years to inform me that I was born by a very old-ancient birthing technique known as consensual sex and that my Uncle Adam was really my father.

Oh!  My name is Cain and I have got to go tell my brother Abel the story so that he knows the truth as well.

adam and eve

Time for Questions:

What if there were humans before the Garden of Eden?  Do you think that sex will ever go out of popularity?  What if everybody was celibate?  Have you ever thought of being celibate?  Why or why not?  Would it be worth it to eliminate sex if we could eliminate violence, wars and murder?

Life is just beginning.

“Let’s make out, have sex, cuddle, and have a deep talk. Then let’s have sex again, go out to eat, go back home, watch a movie, put on some music and then have sex again.  When we get up in the morning, I will make you breakfast in bed.”

 

The Fox and the Rabbit

Growing up, I always loved the Uncle Remus stories and the Aesop fables.  The following story melds elements of both authors.  If you have never read tales from either source, you are missing one of the great treasure troves of morals ever written.  Here is my contribution to the genre of fables with a moral. 

wily fox

It was shortly after the race between Mr. Rabbit and the Mr. Tortoise.  Everyone was still talking about how Mr. Tortoise had beaten Mr. Rabbit.  The unthinkable had happened.  How could the slowest moving creature in the forest beat one of the speediest forest creatures?  Of course, the entire episode was an example of how pride and hubris could be the downfall of anyone.  Mr. Rabbit was so certain that he could beat the tortoise that he played the fool and lost the race.  However, Mr. Rabbit assured everyone that he was too smart to ever let this happen again.

The wise old fox was getting long in tooth and short in speed.  Years ago, he would have had a chance to catch a rabbit for dinner but those times were mostly history now.  Instead, Mr. Fox knew that he must rely on stealth and not speed.  Only by using his wit and cunning could he avoid starvation in old age.

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Now Mr. Fox had observed the race between the rabbit and the tortoise.  He had observed the strutting and pompousness of Mr. Rabbit.  He has also heard Mr. Rabbit assure everyone that such a situation would never happen again.  Mr. Fox had another idea though and he thought “This might just be the opportunity that I am waiting for.  I think that leopards rarely change their spots and I will test my theory on Mr. Rabbit.”

A few weeks went by and one day Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Fox were crossing intersecting trails when Mr. Fox spied Mr. Rabbit and decided to put his plan into action.  He yelled to Mr. Rabbit “Can you wait just a minute, I have a challenge for you?”  Mr. Rabbit, always very competitive and certain that Mr. Fox was nowhere close enough to grab him answered back “What kind of a challenge Mr. Fox?”

mr rabbit

“I want to challenge you to a race just like the one you had with Mr. Tortoise”, replied Mr. Fox.  Now Mr. Rabbit knew that Mr. Fox was very cunning but he also knew that Mr. Fox had grown old and slow.  He decided to play out the game because he was curious to see what Mr. Fox was up to.  “What’s in it for me if I beat you” said Mr. Rabbit, confident that there was no way Mr. Fox could beat him.  “Well, said Mr. Fox, if you win I will bring you a bushel full of carrots to eat.  If I win, you will bring me a bushel full of wheat.”  Mr. Fox, did not really care for wheat but he needed to show that he thought he just might win.

Mr. Rabbit, still suspicious of a trick answered “Well, I am agreeable to the race but on one condition.  If I win, you must deliver the carrots to me at a place and time that I will specify.”  Surely, he thought, there will be no chance for Mr. Fox to grab me if I have him deliver the carrots to my warren.  Mr. Fox was agreeable to the terms for truth be told, the situation was working out just as he had hoped it would.

Mr. Rabbit assumed that Mr. Fox would try to somehow grab him during the race and he was not going to let this happen.  No sleeping or napping during this race.  He would move so fast that he would blow the pants off Mr. Fox.  The word went out through the forest that Mr. Rabbit was going to be in another race.  His opponent this time would be Mr. Fox.  The entire forest was abuzz with anticipation.  All knew that for many years, Mr. Fox had tried to catch Mr. Rabbit but with no results.  What was he up to, was the thought on everyone’s mind,

The day of the race came.  Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Fox took their respective places.  Mr. Rabbit made sure he was nowhere close to Mr. Fox at the starting line.  Hundreds of forest creatures had arrived to watch the big race.  Mr. Owl blew the starting whistle and off they went.  Over hill, over dale, through the thickest parts of the forest ran Mr. Fox and Mr. Rabbit.  However, Mr. Fox was clearly outmatched.  Mr. Rabbit was hundreds of yards ahead.  He had such a lead that he could not even see Mr. Fox.  He thought to himself “Mr. Fox thinks I am going to take a nap and catch me, but he is too stupid for me, I will keep going until I reach the finish line.”  Minutes later, Mr. Rabbit crossed the finish line and Mr. Fox was nowhere in sight.  Mr. Rabbit jumped up and down and shouted things like “Stupid old fox, thought he could catch me.”  “Mr. Fox has gotten senile in his old age if he thinks that he can outsmart me.”

fox_and_rabbit. race

Mr. Fox finally crossed the finish line many minutes later than Mr. Rabbit.  Mr. Rabbit had grown tired of waiting and he left a note for Mr. Fox with Mr. Owl.  “Please give this note to Mr. Fox from me” he asked, “It has directions for when and where he should bring the carrots that he owes me.”  Mr. Fox took the note and went home.

A week or so passed and Mr. Fox had collected all the carrots that would fit into a bushel basket.  He also collected a few more that he was going to put into a gunny sack.  He put a note on the bushel basket that he had picked more carrots than required by the bet but he was going to donate them to Mr. Rabbit anyway.  Furthermore, he left the sack to make it easier for Mr. Rabbit to get his carrots home.

Mr. Rabbit thought “My, my, I guess Mr. Fox knows who is the better runner now.  That stupid fox will think twice before he challenges me again.”  Mr. Rabbit grabbed a carrot and promptly ate it.  After eating a few more carrots, he decided it was time to get them back home.  It would not do to be out after dark.

rabbit and carrots

Mr. Rabbit managed to carry the basket home and then came back for the sack.  Letting his guard down, Mr. Rabbit did not notice that Mr. Fox had snuck back to the site where the sack was and climbed inside it.  Mr. Rabbit grabbed the sack and tried to throw it over his shoulder but it was too heavy.  “What is in this sack?” thought Mr. Rabbit.  He opened it to peer inside and before you could say “Jack Rabbit,” Mr. Fox had Mr. Rabbit in his jaws.  Sad to say, that was the end of Mr. Rabbit.

Now, any good story must have a moral and that goes double for stories with an unhappy ending.  I have tried to find a fitting moral to this tale.  There are perhaps several morals that might fit.

  • Beware of Greeks bearing gifts.
  • Pride goes before a fall.
  • The leopard does not change its spots.
  • Always keep your enemies in sight.
  • Long-term thinking will always win out over short-term thinking.

Mr. Fox was not sure which of these morals he had followed.  He only knew that rabbit was a mighty tasty morsel when served cold.

satisfied_fox_by_brommaherman-d4qptx3

Time for Questions:

What moral do you find in this story?  Why?  What would you have put for an ending? Why?

Life is just beginning.

“Because philosophy arises from awe, a philosopher is bound in his way to be a lover of myths and poetic fables. Poets and philosophers are alike in being big with wonder.” — Thomas Aquinas
 

 

The Mean Old Man and the Single Chair

The following story was inspired by a true story about a mean old man and his single chair.  My friend Don Johnson told me this story and I have put more details into it.  Nevertheless, I must thank Don for the basic outline and for the great way he told the story which as I said inspired me to write this tale.  I hope you will enjoy it.

Old man scowls, leans forward and shakes his cane

When I was a young boy my parents, two sisters and I lived in a mobile home or trailer as some would call them.  Though, we never trailer-ed it anyplace.  Villagers said we lived in a trailer park and kids at school would laugh and joke about us being “trailer trash.”  I got in lots of fights with other kids over these insults.

Every day, my sisters and I would walk to the pickup site for the school bus.  Back in those days, kids could still go to school without a chaperone.  We even went out trick or treating by ourselves and kept any food or candy that we collected.  The one house we did not go to for tricks or treats belonged to a mean old man.  My parents and the older kids in the trailer park warned us to stay away from his house.  They all said that he was very nasty and hated everyone.

Each day after coming back from school, school let out at about 3:15 PM, the school bus would drop us off and my sisters and a few of my friends would walk home.  We would go by the old man’s house.  He would inevitably be sitting on a makeshift porch in front of his trailer in an old rocking chair.  We would stroll by his home and occasionally wave but he would never wave back.  As we went by, he would fix a relentlessly hostile gaze on us which could put fear in anyone’s heart.  We imagined he was mad at the world and that certainly included us.  Inevitably, we picked up our pace and tried to hurry by his place as fast as we could.

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A few years passed and the mean old man simply seemed to grow meaner.  One day after the bus dropped us off, a few of my friends and I were walking home.  As we were passing the old man’s home, he was sitting in his usual place and just staring at us.  My friends started laughing at and taunting him with various insults.  “Hey grandpa, what’s it like being so mean?”  “Hey old man, can you help us find our cat?”  I told them to stop it as he had never bothered anyone.  They turned their taunts on me and said “If you like him so much, why don’t you go talk to him.  We dare you to go talk to him.  They cried out at me: “Chicken!  Chicken!  Chicken!”

I tried to ignore their jibes, but finally, I had had enough.  “I am not afraid. I will go talk to him.”  I started to walk down the path to where the old man was sitting.  My heart began beating faster and faster.  I wondered what I was going to say.  Nothing occurred to me.  The old man was staring at me intently.  I could hear my friends laughing and hooting behind me.

As I reached the old man, he looked very angry.  “Ok”, he said, “What do you want.”  I said the first thing that came into my mind: “Well, I was just wondering why you don’t have another chair so someone can sit and talk with you?”  “None of your business”, he answered, “Now why don’t you just run off and go back with your friends.”  I could not think of another thing to say.  As I turned to leave, I said “Goodbye, have a nice day.”  The old man mumbled something which I thought might be “same to you” but I could not be sure.

Saturday and Sunday passed quickly and Monday we were back in school.  After school adjourned, I decided that I did not want to be go home with my usual friends so I took the “late” bus from school.  I got off at the bus stop and started home.  As I passed the mean old man’s house, he was sitting in his chair.  Much to my surprise, he had a single chair sitting right next to him.  Somewhat emboldened by this turn of events, I walked up the path to his house and stood in front of him again.  He looked at me and asked me “What do you want.”  I said “Well, I notice that you have a single chair free, would you mind if I sat and talked to you for a while.”  “OK” was all he said.

black man in a rocking chair

I sat down and started to tell him about all the things that I was doing in school.  I told him about my classes, my teachers and my friends.  I talked about my parents, my sisters and my grandparents.  He listened intently to all I said and never interrupted or asked any questions.  Realizing that it was getting late and that my parents would be worried, I said that I was going to go home but I would see him again tomorrow.  He simply nodded and said “Goodbye.”

My trips and visits to the mean old man’s house continued for many days.  The days stretched into weeks.  Over time, we started to talk more about his life.  I found out that his name was Bill and that he had been married but his wife had died about ten years earlier.  He had not had any children.  Bill was a veteran and we talked about his wartime service and experiences.  Bill was always more interested in what I was doing and asked me many questions about my school and life.  Bill said that he did not have any friends and no surviving relatives.

I asked Bill if he did not have any friends in our local church but he said that his wife had been the church goer.  He had occasionally gone to church with her, but after she died, his stopped going.  Bill confided in me that he had never been a social person and had always found it difficult to make friends.  Most of the friends whom he once had were his wife’s friends and after she died, they stopped coming to visit.  He was all alone now.

Weeks turned into months and it became my habit to routinely stop by Bill’s house on my way home from school.  We talked and I told him about my day and he listened and asked questions which made me think a great deal about my choices and decisions in life.  I could share things with Bill that I did not share with anyone else.

Then one day when I was coming home and passing Bill’s house, I saw that someone else was sitting in the single chair.  Not wanting to interrupt, I waved and walked on by.  The next day we resumed our discussions as usual but the following day, the chair was again occupied.  Over time, the single chair was alternately occupied by myself and many other people.

two old men on a porch

I found out that Bill had started to go to church again and he had met people from all walks of life.  Some were retired and some were not.  The people who met Bill found him to be a very interesting person. They would stop by and sit in the single chair next to Bill and talk about various and sundry things.

High school came and went.  Bill and I had many talks but just as often, he had someone else sitting in the chair when I came by.  I went off to college and saw Bill much less except when I came home to visit my parents.  Bill and I discussed writing to each other but we both agreed that we were not writers.  I finished college and found a job in another city.  My times with Bill had dwindled to a mere pittance of what they once had been.

A few more years passed by.  My parents notified me that Bill had died.  I came home to go to his funeral.  It was well attended and nearly a hundred people were there.  Many nice things were said about Bill.  Everyone talked about what a good listener he was and how he always cared more about what others were doing or thinking.  He was one of the least egocentric people you could have met.

single chair on a porch

About two weeks after the funeral, a letter arrived in my mail.  It was from my home town but I did not recognize the address.  I opened it up and inside were two pieces of stationary.  I opened the one with the typing on it.  It read, “We were going through some of Bill’s possessions and we found this note on his bedside.  We thought he meant to give it to you but never got around to mailing it.”  I opened the second piece of stationary.  It was in rough scrawl which I recognized as Bill’s handwriting.  Bill wrote the following:

Dear Tim,

You are the best friend I ever had. 

Thanks,

Bill

I still keep this note.  It is perhaps the nicest compliment I have ever received.  Whenever, I miss Bill, I pull this note out to remember him and the many talks we had.  Bill in his rocking chair and me in the single chair beside him.

Time for Questions:

My writers group said that the “Mean Old Man” was iconic and that every neighborhood had such a character.  Can you think of someone in your neighborhood like this “Mean Old Man?”  Did anyone ever try to talk to him or find out what bothered him?  What happened to him?  Why do you suppose children are often likely to befriend such people?

Life is just beginning.

“My mother says that when Mrs. Rowley is mean, which is generally the case, it is really because she is just unhappy, and who could blame her with a husband like that . . . She says this is really the only reason people are ever mean–they have something hurting inside of them, a claw of unhappiness scratching at their hearts, and it hurts them so much that sometimes they have to push it right out of their mouths to scratch someone else, just to give themselves a rest, a moment of relief.”  — Laura Moriarty

The Little Boy Who Believed in God

The following story was inspired by a Charles Dickens story called “A Child’s Dream of a Star.”

videoblocks-praying-child-little-boy-saying-prayer-before-going-to-bed-christian-kid-with-closed-eyes-sitting-on-knees-and-calling-to-god-strong-belief-in-heart-boy-holding-hands-togethe

Once upon a time there was a little boy who believed in God.  Every morning when he woke up, he would look out the window and thank God for his blessings.  He thanked God for the sun, the beautiful day, the flowers, the trees, the water, the birds and most of all for his mother, father, sister, brother and grandparents.  Every night when the little boy would go to bed, he would look out the window and again thank God for his blessings.  He thanked God for the moon, the stars, the planets and most of all for his mother, father, sister, brother and grandparents.

Now the circumstance of a little boy believing in God might not seem strange but in this case, it was very strange.  You see, the little boy’s mother and father and older sister and older brother and even his grandparents were all confirmed Atheists.  Not a one of them went to church or professed a belief in any type of a higher entity.  In fact, his father and mother were very worried about the little boy.

Father:  “Honey, I am very worried about our little boy.  We have told him that Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy and God are all myths.  He accepted the reality for these fictions except for the greatest fiction of all, a higher power called God who supposedly created the universe.  Where do you think he got this idea of God from?

Mother:  “I don’t know. It is very strange.  The schools do not teach God.  His brother and sister do not believe in God.  His grandparents do not believe in God.  None of our friends believe in God.  Most religions do not really practice what they preach.  Most people who say they believe in God are really hypocrites or liars.  I am as mystified as you are.

Believing in God might not have been a problem for the little boy as he had very accepting parents.  However, the little boy found out that whenever he tried to talk to any of his friends or schoolmates or even teachers about God, they did not want to discuss the issue.  The little boy would ask questions like “Do you think God is having a good day today?”  “Do you think God worries about the evil deeds in the world?”  “How can we help God to bring more joy and happiness in the world?”  His teachers and friends would puzzle at such questions and try to ignore him.  They would shake their heads and hope that he would stop asking about God.  His wanting to discuss God made most people very uncomfortable.  God was not a subject for polite conversation.

God-is-good-Article-TemplateAs the little boy grew up, he became an even more devout believer in God.  Everywhere he went, he saw the hand of God.  In the clouds, in nature, in the weather, in the oceans, in good times and in bad times he believed that God was present.  The little boy thought how hard God must have to work to try to keep life sustained.  Each night he would pray to God that when he grew up, he would be able to help ease God’s work somewhat and do his share to help make the world a better place.

The little boy became a social worker and devoted his life to helping other people.  He met many other social workers who became cynical and skeptical.  One told him what a fool he was for believing that a God existed who cared about the human race.  Another told him that if a God really existed he would not have allowed people to be so greedy and corrupt.  Most of the social workers he knew eventually quit to become investment bankers or insurance salespeople.

god is my salvation

Time passed.  Aging became more salient in the little boy’s life.  His grandparents died.  His mother and father died.  His sister and brother died.  All his friends passed away.  Every time one of them died, the little boy would thank God for the time he had been able to spend with his loved ones.  He would ask God to take good care of them until he could see them again.

Many years went by and eventually the little boy stood at death’s door.  It was his last hour on earth.  He had few breaths left.  A nurse and a doctor waited at his bedside.  They heard him say before he passed “Thank you God for the life you gave me.  Thank you for the trees and the sun and the moon and the stars and the oceans and the forests and the sky.  But most of all, thank you for all the wonderful people that you put in my life and who I will now meet again.”

Time for Questions:

What do you believe in?  Why?  What role does faith have in your beliefs?  Do you think that there is a God?  Does he/she watch over and take care of humanity?  Why or why not?

Life is just beginning.

“To love means loving the unlovable. To forgive means pardoning the unpardonable.  Faith means believing the unbelievable. Hope means hoping when everything seems hopeless.” — Gilbert K. Chesterton
 

 

 

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