Getting away

Story continues from yesterday

[This is a darkly comic satire not recommended for readers under 12]

Wookiburra Sheep Station, Victoria, Australia
18:03 HRS EDT (07:03 GMT)

Story continues tomorrow 🙂

but if you don’t want to wait, you don’t have to 😉

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Maddicts was remade with Comic Life by Plasq

vegan, animal rights, vegan comic, vegan graphic novel, animal rights graphic novel, satire, activism, animals, cows, pigs, sheep,

Global Effect

Story continues from Friday

[This is a darkly comic satire not recommended for readers under 12]

16 March 2027 British Brain Foundation (registered charity) releases latest pamphlet detailing their research into cures for human dementia.

16:42 HRS Ixford University labs, UK.
Lab tech Vicky Crass collects mice for analysis

16 March 2027 Professor Miriam Goode’s website goes largely unnoticed.

Story continues tomorrow 🙂

but if you don’t want to wait, you don’t have to 😉

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Maddicts was remade with Comic Life by Plasq

vegan, animal rights, vegan comic, vegan graphic novel, animal rights graphic novel, satire, activism, animals, cows, pigs, sheep,

Vegan Story Time #8: The Two Little Pigs

Listen to The Two Little Pigs 😀

Want more stories?  Check out the Story Time page 😀

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vegan, vegan story, vegan story books, vegan children’s story, read aloud, audio books, books, children’s books, animals, pigs,

Three months later …

Big Blue Sky continues:

vegan Christmas story

vegan Christmas story

vegan Christmas story

vegan Christmas story

vegan Christmas story

vegan Christmas story

vegan Christmas story

Oh no Luca! Wake up!

Big Blue Sky continues tomorrow but if you can’t wait to find out if Luca’s ok, you can finish it now 🙂

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vegan, vegan Christmas, turkeys, Christmas story, children’s story, vegan children’s story, vegetarian, veggie kids, vegan children, animals, birds,

Are you sure there’s a way out?

Clarence’s story continues:

vegan Christmas story

vegan Christmas story

vegan Christmas story

Will Clarence get to see the Big Blue Sky?

Story continues tomorrow 🙂

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vegan, vegan Christmas, turkeys, Christmas story, children’s story, vegan children’s story, vegetarian, veggie kids, vegan children, animals, birds,

Clarence’s story begins today

vegan Christmas story

vegan Christmas story

vegan Christmas story

vegan Christmas story

 

vegan Christmas story***************************************************************

Clarence’s story continues tomorrow

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vegan, vegan Christmas, turkeys, Christmas story, children’s story, vegan children’s story, vegetarian, veggie kids, vegan children, animals, birds,

 

“We’re doomed!”

The End 😀

If you missed the beginning you can read the whole story here

And if you like rhyming stories generally, there are more on this page 😀

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“We’re doomed!  We’re doomed!”  cried a pink panicked pig.

The other was mute in distress.

“Listen to me,” came a voice down a tree,

“I’ll get you both out of this mess.”

***

“The answer is simple, you need to be brave,

Keep going, walk on, don’t look back.

The forest will feed you and shelter you too.

You will find that for nothing you’ll lack.”

***

So the two little pigs changed direction at last

As they chose to live and be free.

Their salty tears dried on their pink rosy cheeks,

Ever after they lived happily.

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vegan, vegetarian, veggie kids, vegan children, vegan children’s story, rhyming story, poem, animals, animal rights, pigs, birds, magpies, illustration, drawing

 

At last they found it!

The story of The Two Little Pigs continues:

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Oh no!  Poor piggies 😦

Join us tomorrow to see how the story ends 😀

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At last the pigs found it, the place of their dreams,

Their home with the farmer they loved.

But their joy was short-lived when they saw what she did.

Just in time her true face was revealed.

***

“What’s wrong?” asked a magpie who watched with her mate,

“Tell us what makes you so sad.”

“The farmer,” said one pig with tears in his eyes,

“We thought she was good but she’s bad.”

***

“Ah yes,” said the magpie, “we’ve seen it before.

She’s lovely to piggies like you.

She keeps them well fed and happy and fat

Till she sends them to him, two by two.”

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vegan, vegetarian, veggie kids, vegan children, vegan children’s story, rhyming story, poem, animals, animal rights, pigs, birds, magpies, illustration, drawing

Then the two pigs met a golden stag deer

The story of The Two Little Pigs continues:

Oh my goodness!

Come back tomorrow to see what happens next! 😀

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Then the two pigs met a golden stag deer,

He was strong and as tall as the sky.

“Please, oh please, help us find our way home!

We’re afraid if you don’t we might die!”

***

“Well done,” said the deer, “you’ve made your escape,

Now hide where he can’t see you.

If you go that way, I’m telling you true,

In no time at all he will find you!”

***

Again the pigs ran and they stuck to their plan

To go home where they felt safe before.

But the butcher came too, now he realised he knew

Just exactly where they headed for.

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vegan, vegetarian, veggie kids, vegan children, vegan children’s story, rhyming story, poem, animals, animal rights, pigs, deer

Soon after that the pigs met a hare

The story of The Two Little Pigs continues:

Oh no! 😮

Join us tomorrow to find out what happens next 😀

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Soon after that the pigs met a hare

Who watched them with his gentle eyes.

“Please, oh please, please help us get home,”

They pleaded with sadness and sighs.

***

“It’s not very far,” the hare softly said,

“But it seems to me backward not forward.

If you must go back, go left past the shack,

But I think you had better turn westward.”

***

The pigs did not heed the advice received,

They were young and too green to be wary.

Not looking back, they went left past the shack,

Close pursued by the angry and hairy.

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vegan, vegan children’s story, animals, pigs, vegetarian, vegan children’s book, children’s story, rhyming story, animal rights

Before long the two pigs met two robins

The story continues from yesterday 😀

Join us on Monday to find out what happens next 😀

Have a great weekend ❤

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Before long the two pigs met two robins

Sitting atop a green bush.

“Help us please, to find our way home,

We can’t stand here long so please rush!”

***

“I wouldn’t do that, oh no, oh no,”

The robins were both in agreement.

“You should look for a place of your own,

Unless you want more of this treatment.”

***

The pigs were confused but could not wait,

The butcher was still close behind them.

The big bad butcher still huffed and still puffed,

Still annoyed that he still couldn’t find them.

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vegan, animals, birds, animal rights, pigs, children’s story, rhyming story, vegan children’s story, vegan children’s books, vegetarian,

The two little pigs soon met a fox

The story continues from yesterday 😀

Story continues tomorrow 🙂

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The two little pigs soon met a fox,

They disturbed her sleep as they had to.

“Help us please, to find our way home,

We don’t know the way but hope you do.”

***

The fox sat up slowly, looking confused,

“You’re not from round here,” she concluded.

“The word you use is wrongly applied

To a creature so cold and hard-hearted.”

***

The pigs hurried on as fast as they could,

Resuming their quest for sanctuary.

The butcher was tired but he kept on

In determined pursuit of his property.

The two little pigs met a heron

The story continues from yesterday 😀

Story continues tomorrow 🙂

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The two little pigs met a heron,

A wise and dignified bird,

“Help us please, to find our way home,”

And she listened to every word.

***

“That’s not what I’d do,” said the heron,

“If I had a dilemma like yours.

If I were you I’d get off by myself,

Don’t get stuck behind closed doors.”

***

The butcher was near so the pigs ran on

While the heron tried to distract him.

He paused for breath, returning her gaze

And she prayed he would never catch them.

The two little pigs met a kitty

Story continues from yesterday:

Story continues tomorrow 😀

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The two little pigs met a kitty,

A clever and striped kitty cat.

“Help us, please, to find our way home,”

But the cat wasn’t sure about that.

***

“I wouldn’t go there if I were you,”

Was the kitty’s confusing advice,

“Hurry now, don’t let me keep you,

I hope you end up somewhere nice.”

***

Huffing and puffing were not far behind

So the piglets kept running and running.

The cat kept his mouth shut and didn’t divulge

The direction the two pigs were heading.

New story for little ones: The Two Little Pigs – begins today!

Oh no!  Run little piggies run!

Story continues tomorrow 😀

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Two little pigs were running,

Running as fast as they could.

Away from the butcher and all his sharp knives

They ran just like anyone would.

***

One hairy butcher was chasing,

Just as fast as he could run.

He huffed and he puffed and he slobbered,

He was crosser than anyone.

Tower Hill Stables – Awesome Sanctuary!

The wonderful Tower Hill Stables sanctuary, home to nearly 600 animals, is run by record breaking marathon runner Fiona Oakes and her partner Martin Morgan.

Click here to give them much needed support 😀

Thank you

TOWER HILL STABLES ANIMAL SANCTUARY
ASHELDHAM
ESSEX
CM0 7DZ

 

Basking Sharks

Photo by David Mark of Pixabay

Basking Sharks are so named because they’re often seen feeding at the surface of the water where they look like they’re basking in the sun!  They are enormous and often spotted in UK waters during summer months.
APPEARANCE:
Apart from their large size, Basking Sharks have:

  • a very large mouth – this can be well over 1m wide!
  • 5 huge gills which almost encircle the head
  • and a powerful crescent-shaped tail

COLOUR:
They tend to be greyish-brown with a lighter underbelly. Often they have irregular patches, patterns and streaks on their flanks and fins. Using photo-ID we can use these distinct markings to identify individual Basking Sharks.

SIZE:
The largest reported Basking Shark was 12m long. But most don’t get bigger than 9.8m.

WEIGHT:
The average Basking Shark weighs 4.5 tonnes. Yet, they can weigh up to 7 tonnes!

DIET:
Basking Sharks eat zooplankton. This includes small copepods, barnacles, decapod larvae, fish eggs and shrimp.  They’re one of 3 filter-feeding sharks but are the only species that feeds entirely passively. They swim through the water with their mouth wide open, rather than actively sucking water in. Only closing their mouths to swallow their food. Long comb-like structures on their gills (known as gill-rakers) trap and filter zooplankton. These can strain up to 2000 tonnes of water per hour!

REPRODUCTION:
It’s thought that Basking Sharks live for at least 50 years. Males reach maturity at 12–16 years. And females at 20 years (around 4.6-6.1m in length).
Females produce eggs, which develop and hatch inside their body. They then give birth to fully developed young, which are around 1–1.7m long. This makes Basking Shark pups larger at birth than many species of shark are fully grown!

There’s little data on Basking Shark reproduction. But pregnancy is thought to last around 14 months. There’s only ever been one reported catch of a pregnant female (1943), who was carrying 6 pups. This suggests that Basking Sharks give birth in areas of low, or no fishing pressure.

BEHAVIOUR:
Basking Sharks are quite social. They can be seen on their own, in small groups, or, schools of hundreds. There are many reports of same size and sex groups. Suggesting a strong sexual and age segregation within the species.

Despite their size, Basking Sharks are capable of leaping clear out of the water. A behaviour known as breaching. They seem to breach most when in large groups and during courtship, so this may act as a social or sexual function. It could also help to dislodge external parasites.
Info from sharktrust.org/about-basking-sharks

Basking Sharks are long lived, slow growing and produce few young. This makes them extremely vulnerable to human impacts.  Although Basking Sharks are now one of the most heavily protected sharks in UK and EU waters, they continue to face threats from human activities:

ENTANGLEMENT
Basking Sharks easily become entangled in fishing nets and ropes. Unless fishermen are on hand to quickly release them, they often die. Although some do manage to disentangle themselves. You can sometimes see scarring and abrasions caused by nets on their dorsal fin.

BOAT-STRIKE
Propeller and boat strikes remain a serious danger for Basking Sharks. Particularly in summer months when they’re feeding at the surface. Basking Sharks rarely evade approaching boats. So it’s common for them to have scarring and sometimes horrific injuries from collisions.

HARASSMENT
Basking Sharks are very sensitive to disturbance and harassment by people. In all the excitement of seeing Basking Sharks, boats and jet-ski’s often end up striking them. As well as causing physical harm, water-users can also disrupt their natural behaviour. Such as feeding, courting and mating.

FISHERIES
Basking Shark fisheries worldwide have all but collapsed. Although in some parts of the world they continue, driven by demand for shark fins. Basking Sharks are also still caught as bycatch in nets intended for other species.

Info from sharktrust.org/basking-shark-threats

To learn how you can help basking sharks go to sharktrust.org/how-can-you-help-basking-sharks

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Greta Thunberg: action is the only thing to bring hope

Watch this.  Nothing could be more important.

Yesterday I heard a woman complaining at the checkout about how much she had to pay for plastic bags.  She complained but she didn’t act.  She didn’t make the effort to bring re-usable bags with her.  She was clueless.  I am daily flabbergasted at the cluelessness of so many people who blindly continue with their destructive habits in spite of the devastation they cause to the planet.  Do they think it’s not their problem?  Do they think the government will solve it?

This problem can only be solved by everybody.

Venus #5! Again.

Venus Aqueous episode 5 has been given the Comic Life treatment 😀

Instalments begin here.

To enlarge images for easier reading, use the zoom in your browser 🙂

Story continues tomorrow but if you want to read the whole story now, click Venus #5  😀

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vegan, vegetarian, animals, marine animals, children, children’s story, comics, children’s comics, vegan comics, vegan children’s story, animal rights

Chickpea runs away!

This story really needs to be told.  Pre-order the book here to help with production costs ❤

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animals, farmed animals, cows, animal rescue, animal rights, books, children’s books, vegan, vegetarian, vegan children’s books, illustrated books, illustrations

 

73 cows

Get a hanky, this will melt your heart 🙂

Thank God for Jay and Katja, may all the animal farmers follow in their footsteps.

And please support Hillside who gave sanctuary to all 73 cows 😀

<p><a href=”https://vimeo.com/293352305″>73 Cows</a> from <a href=”https://vimeo.com/lockwoodfilm”>Alex Lockwood</a> on <a href=”https://vimeo.com”>Vimeo</a&gt;.</p>

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vegan, vegetarian, vegan organic, vegan farming, animals, cows, animal rescue

 

Everything changed

Story continues from yesterday:

😀

For the whole story, and the background and sources that informed it, click here

Let the dogs out is also available in paperback 🙂

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vegan, juvenile fiction, anti-vivisection, animals, dogs, illustration, animal rights, vegan story, vegan children’s story

So many families

Today is World Day for Laboratory Animals.  Please take action for laboratory animals now.  It’ll only take a couple of minutes.  Thank you 🙂

Story continues from yesterday:

story continues tomorrow

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dogs, animals, anti-vivisection, vegan, vegetarian, illustration, vegan story, animal rights story

The raw material of bones

‘One farmer says to me, “You cannot live on vegetable food solely, for it furnishes nothing to make bones with;” and so he religiously devotes a part of his day to supplying his system with the raw material of bones; walking all the while he talks behind his oxen, which, with vegetable-made bones, jerk him and his lumbering plough along in spite of every obstacle.’

Henry David Thoreau, in Walden.

 

Clever naughty boy

When reading an article in the Journal of Medical Ethics, Advances in neuroscience imply that harmful experiments in dogs are unethical, by Jarrod Bailey and Shiranee Pereira, I was reminded of our George.  The Open Access article explains that

“Functional MRI (fMRI) of fully awake and unrestrained dog ‘volunteers’ has been proven an effective tool to understand the neural circuitry and functioning of the canine brain. Although every dog owner would vouch that dogs are perceptive, cognitive, intuitive and capable of positive emotions/empathy, as indeed substantiated by ethological studies for some time, neurological investigations now corroborate this. These studies show that there exists a striking similarity between dogs and humans in the functioning of the caudate nucleus (associated with pleasure and emotion), and dogs experience positive emotions, empathic-like responses and demonstrate human bonding which, some scientists claim, may be at least comparable with human children. There exists an area analogous to the ‘voice area’ in the canine brain, enabling dogs to comprehend and respond to emotional cues/valence in human voices, and evidence of a region in the temporal cortex of dogs involved in the processing of faces, as also observed in humans and monkeys. We therefore contend that using dogs in invasive and/or harmful research, and toxicity testing, cannot be ethically justifiable.”

As soon as we got to know George we knew he was an especially thoughtful person.  It was proved beyond doubt when I had a diabetic hypo (hypoglycemia: low blood sugar, causing brain to go to sleep) one afternoon a couple of years ago.  I had been unconscious on the settee for a couple of hours and no one else was home except the two dogs.  When I came round my brain woke up before my body did so when I tried to get up off the settee I just collapsed onto the floor.  I was aware that both dogs, George and Jo Jo, were watching me closely.  I was flat on my face and couldn’t even sit up so I needed my husband’s help.  I knew he was somewhere in the garden (he’s the resident gardener of a six acre garden) so I tried to shout his name in the hope that he was nearby but I was unable to form words.  I made a strange drunken sound which was beyond slurred but it wasn’t very loud and certainly not comprehensible.  My arms were starting to work now so I managed to drag myself on my belly to the door and was just able to reach the waist-level handle to open it.  Both boys followed me and when I’d got the door open wide enough I slurred “Git Sm’n” as best I could (I still couldn’t say Simon) before flopping back face-first on the doormat.  Sweet Jo Jo stayed with me while George ran outside.  Bear in mind he now had the freedom to roam six acres, but he didn’t.  He stood at the end of the path to the gardener’s cottage and barked.  He barked and barked until Simon came and then he ran back to the cottage ahead of him.  Simon lifted me onto the bed, got me some orange juice and I made a fast recovery.

But if you think that was clever, wait ’til you hear what happened last week!  I got my coat and wellies on, ready to take the boys for a walk.  Jo Jo came running to have his coat and lead put on but George was at the other end of the living room guarding his food dish.  He still had a bit of breakfast left and was worried someone might pinch it if it was left unattended.  Well, I didn’t want to have to take off my muddy boots to traipse across the living room to fetch him so I kept calling him until he eventually reluctantly came.  I attached his lead and the three of us left.  When we were about thirty feet from the house I noticed George was limping quite heavily on his front left paw.  I said, “Oh, darling, are you limping?  What’s wrong?” and he stood still and gave me his paw when I reached for it.  I couldn’t find anything wrong with it – he didn’t complain when I touched it and there was no thorn or stone or anything caught in it – so I attempted to resume our walk.  George made an immediate U-turn and pulled back towards the house so I gave in and let him lead me back.  When we got to the front door I opened it, took off his lead and he ran to his food dish – no sign of a limp whatsoever!  He has not limped at all since.  He is a liar!  He pretended he’d hurt his foot so that he didn’t have to go!

He is a clever clever naughty boy 😀

Listening to the mouse in the wall

I lay in bed listening

To the mouse in the wall.

He doesn’t know I’m here,

I think I’ll call him Paul.

****

He always comes at bedtime

To find his winter stash.

He must be very hungry,

Scratch and scrape and bang and bash.

It sounds just like marbles

That he rolls above my head,

But I think it must be nuts,

They sound loud when I’m in bed.

****

I’m glad Paul won’t go hungry,

He works hard for every bite,

But I wish he’d work the day shift

So I could sleep at night.

 

 

The Christmas Market

For all the Luke Walker chapters click here 🙂

Chapter 15, the denouement :

At ten forty-five on Tuesday morning, Luke and Joe climbed aboard the school minibus and grabbed two of the back seats.  Tania and Isabel grabbed the other two.

“This should be good,” said Isabel.

“Yeah, I need to get something for my mum and something for my grandad,” Tania replied.

“Is that all?” Isabel was impressed, “I’ve still got to do all mine.”

The engine started.

“Okay everybody,” Thomas shouted from the front, “seatbelts on.  Off we go!”

Luke and Joe pulled their lunch boxes out of their bags.  Isabel laughed.

“We’ll be there in ten minutes,” she said, “you shouldn’t spoil your appetites – I bet there’ll be some delicious Christmas food at the market.”

“Nah, we’d rather eat now,”  said Luke as he bit into his blueberry muffin.

Tania looked over at their lunches and it reminded her of something she’d been meaning to tell them.

“Thomas is a veggie.”

“Is he?” said Joe.

“I think so.  I saw Mrs Tebbut offer him one of her homemade mince pies yesterday and he asked if they had vegetable suet in them.  She said she wasn’t sure so he said no thank you.”

“He’s cool,” said Luke approvingly.

“Yeah,” Joe agreed, “it’s good he works in our class and dint stay with Ms Robinson.”

***

The Christmas market was really crowded.  It stretched the whole length of Fish Street which had been closed to traffic.  Mr Beardsley told everyone to make sure they were always in sight of himself or Thomas.  They were not to go off anywhere by themselves.

There was a Christmas tree at the car park end of the street, huge and covered in twinkling white lights.  Next to it the Salvation Army band played Christmas carols and the whole atmosphere was happy and festive.  The first stall sold reindeer food at a pound a bag, for anyone who wanted to leave a treat for Santa’s friends on Christmas Eve.

At the second stall, if you weren’t short of cash, you could buy a hand-calved Buddha.

The third stall looked more fun – they were selling robots playing snooker.  Luke thought he wanted one but forgot about it as soon as he saw the bird whistles on the next stall.  He’d always wanted to be able to communicate with birds.

The fifth stall sold snake-length marshmallows; the sixth sold Turkish Delight; the seventh had models of owls and elephants in jars; the eighth sold rock crystal lamps; the ninth had reindeer-shaped planters. Before long the market lost its charm for two boys with no money.

“Let’s go over there,” Luke suggested, pointing to an empty bandstand on the lawn behind the stalls.

“Mr Beardsley said we’re s’posed to stay in sight,” said Joe.

“We will be,” Luke assured him, “we’ll be able to see everybody from up there.”

The boys squeezed between the chocolate scissors stall and the cannabis incense stall and climbed onto the raised platform of the bandstand.  They sat comfortably with their feet dangling and tucked into their sandwiches while they watched the merry throng.

“This is good,” said Luke smiling, “I don’t mind shoppin’ if I don’t have to actually shop.”

By the time they’d finished their lunches their classmates were out of sight and Joe felt they should try to catch up.  Luke disagreed.

“No, we might get lost.  We should wait coz they’ll have to come back this way.  Look, I can see the minibus from here.”

“That’s not our minibus.  Ours doesn’t have a green stripe down the side.”

“Doesn’t it?” said Luke, a little thrown.  “Oh, well, they’ll still have to come back this way.  I think we should wait.”

They only had to wait for another quarter of an hour before they saw a couple of familiar faces.  Tania and Isabel were hurrying across the lawn towards them.

“There you are!” said Isabel, gasping for breath.

“Luke! – You’ve got to come!  They’re selling reindeer skins!” said Tania.

“And reindeer burgers!”

Luke and Joe, crestfallen, climbed down from the bandstand and followed the girls to the far end of Fish Street, where all the food stalls were. Luke was sad but not surprised to see what looked like hundreds of people eager to indulge in deep fried flesh foods, jostling to hold their positions in the queues.

“Say something!” Tania implored.

“What d’you want me to say?” Luke asked.

“Tell them they’re despicable to kill reindeer!  Tell them it’s sick to sell reindeer burgers at Christmas!”

In addition to the stalls selling reindeer, there was one selling inferno cheddar (cheese laced with chillies); another was selling turkey sausages spiced with chilli and paprika; another was using a cute-looking model pig to sell pork scratchings.

“You can tell ’em that if you want,” Luke said, loud enough to be heard by anyone who wanted to listen, “an’ I agree with you, but it won’t do any good.  Not while there’s so many stupid people who want to buy this stuff.”

“Who’s stupid?” said a large man in the spicy sausage queue.

“You lot,” said Luke unapologetically, “all you lot in these queues.”

“Is that right?” he said slowly, turning to face Luke with eyes narrowed.

Tania and Isabel blushed and took a step back.  Joe looked at his feet.  Luke didn’t move.

“Yeah,” said Luke, “Don’t you think it’s stupid to pay for somethin’ what’s killin’ the planet?”

A few more people turned to listen.  Luke went on.

“Well, I call it stupid coz animal farmin’ kills the sea and the rainforests and makes more greenhouse gases than cars an’ planes an’ all transport put together!”

“Says who?” asked the man sceptically.

“Said the United Nations.  Over ten years ago.”  He paused briefly to let them absorb it before concluding.  “Yeah, it’s pretty stupid to spend your money on killin’ the planet you live on.  You’re killin’ yourselves.  An’ your children.  An’ your children’s children.”

Luke was surprised and disappointed to get almost no reaction to his shocking revelation, but he didn’t give up.  He had more.

“An’ I should say it’s pretty stupid to let people starve coz you paid for their food to be given to seventy billion farm animals, just so you can eat meat an’ cheese.  Yeah, anyone who pays for that is pretty stupid alright.  And selfish.”

The large man laughed stupidly.

“But it tastes so good!” he scoffed and turned back to wait for his sausage.

In the silence before the conversational hubbub rose again, three or four people walked away from the food stalls.  Luke turned back to Tania and Isabel.

“See, there’s no point tellin’ people they’re horrible for sellin’ horrible things.  They don’t care.  They’ll sell anythin’ if people’ll pay ’em for it.  It’s the people what pay for it who make it happen.  If they didn’t buy it, no one would sell it.”

The girls nodded.  Isabel looked guiltily at the half-eaten bag of pork scratchings in her hand and quickly tossed it in the bin.  All four children walked back to the bandstand to look out for the rest of their class returning to the minibus.  When they were back in their seats on the bus, Tania made a declaration.

“I’m going to make an early new year’s resolution,” she paused for effect before announcing, “I’m going vegan!”

“Me too,” said Isabel, smiling.

Luke looked wonderingly at Joe.  Joe nodded.

“D’you want to join our secret society?” they asked.

  • Good Spirit, your nature intercedes for me, and pities me. Assure me that I yet may change these shadows you have shown me, by an altered life! I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach. Oh, tell me I may sponge away the writing on this stone!”

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Christmas is just around the corner, for Luke as well.  Join us tomorrow for the beginning of a Christmassy final chapter of the second Luke Walker book 😀

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vegan, vegetarian, Christmas, veggie kids, vegan children, vegan children’s stories, vegan children’s book, fiction, juvenile fiction, animals, environment, humour, adventure, activism

In the Sunday School room …

For all the Luke Walker chapters click here 😀

To read the whole of Chapter 13 click here 🙂

Story continues from yesterday:

In the Sunday School room Luke was unsurprised to find quaint and colourful cardboard fishing boats stuck to a massive collage that covered a whole wall.  The boats were manned by friendly fishermen pulling up nets by hand.  The water beneath them was gleaming turquoise and filled with colourful fish who looked only too eager to swim into the welcoming nets.  A golden beach was pictured behind with market stalls where smiling fishmongers sold fish to happy villagers under a soft blue sky.  A red and white striped lighthouse kindly warned the fishermen to stay away from the rocks.  And across the sky large paper letters spelled out the words:

“Typical!” said Luke with contempt and uncharacteristic brevity.  There was no time for lengthy verbal condemnations.  They just got on with it.

Forty-six minutes later Joe was on his way home with gratitude as Luke dropped the last armful of tinned fish into the wheelie bin behind the building.  Tomorrow there’d be no Joe.  Tomorrow Luke would be on his own.  Which wasn’t a problem, because he wasn’t a coward.

***

Luke was quiet at breakfast on Sunday and Mum sympathised.

“You’re very preoccupied this morning Luke, are you worried about talking to Eric?”

“Er, kind of,” Luke admitted.

“Mm, it’s never easy to tell someone something they don’t want to hear but it’s better to be honest.”

“Yeah,” said Luke, enlivened by a slight resurgence in confidence, “it’s better if they know the truth.”

At ten to ten, Luke and his mum approached the chapel gate.  Mrs Walker wondered what was going on. People were standing around on the lawn outside and the village bobby was there, talking to the minister.

“What’s going on?” she asked Gordon.

“Vandalism,” he said, flatly, “a horrible mess.”

“Oh no!  How awful!” she said and rushed in.  Luke followed at a cautious distance.  Mabel, standing in the doorway, advised Mum not to enter.

“All our work yesterday – ruined!” she mourned, “it’s a horror show in there!”

When Mrs Walker stepped forward the first thing to strike her was the awful smell.  She shielded her nose with her hand.  Draped over the pulpit was a huge, orange, fishing net, tangled, filthy and stinking with rotten seaweed and the small fish and crustacean victims who’d been trapped and strangled by it long after the fleet had left it to drift untethered.  The communion table and the floor around it exhibited a collection of old lobster pots and traps, a mess of wire and barbed hooks, a couple of rusty knives and a matching set of hooks, pliers and other fishmonger blades that looked hardly used.

These were set off to best advantage by numerous anchovy and sardine corpses variously strewn and interwoven throughout.  The whole ensemble was liberally splattered with what looked like blood.

Eric emerged from the Sunday School room.

“There’s more in here,” he told her.

Mrs Walker had a bad feeling.

Apprehensively she followed Eric into the Sunday School room and discovered the picturesque fishing village scene was no more.  There were no fish, no happy villagers and no fishmongers; the lighthouse had fallen into the sea and the colourful fishing boats had crashed into the rocks.  Some of the paper letters had been rearranged across the sky to spell

“I told you we should have done the normal fruit and vegetable display!” Mrs Kirby chimed in authoritatively, “I said to the minister last week – people want a traditional harvest festival with fruits and vegetables and golden sheaves of wheat.  Genesis 1, verse 29: I have provided all kinds of grain and fruit for you to eat,” she quoted, “This is a message from God!”

Mabel was irritated.

“God didn’t do this!”

“Whoever did it was sent by Him!” retorted Mrs Kirby, and no one dared disagree.

***

Mrs Walker kept her anger buttoned down.  She didn’t say anything until they were well out of earshot of the other church-goers.  It would be too shameful if anyone else knew what she suspected.  Not to mention Luke might get a criminal record.  Eventually, when they were almost home, she asked coldly,

“Who do you think did it Luke?”

“I’m with Mrs Kirby,” he answered honestly, “whoever did it was sent by God.”

Have a lovely weekend 😀

Join us on Monday for the beginning of Chapter 14:

Luke Walker and the Halloween Party

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For all the Luke Walker chapters click here 🙂

Luke Walker paperbacks:

  

Luke Walker: animal stick up for-er (the first eight chapters);

 More Luke Walker: animal stick up for-er (chapters nine to sixteen);

and Luke Walker: animal stick up for-er: my privut notebook

are available from Amazon in the UK, Europe, the USA and Canada 🙂

but if you’d prefer to mail order them through us, get in touch 😀

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Luke could hardly believe it

For all the Luke Walker chapters click here 😀

To read the whole of Chapter 13 click here 🙂 

Story continues from yesterday:

“What?!”  Luke could hardly believe it.  “They’re proud of killin’ sea animals are they?  They want to show off about killin’ God’s creatures do they?  That’s very Christian – I don’t think!”

“Well, Luke,” Mum tried to calm him down, “I know you don’t like it sweetheart but Jesus ate fish didn’t he?  Some of his disciples were fishermen.”

Luke was unconvinced.

“How do we know that?  Just coz someone wrote it in a book thousands of years ago in a diff’rent language.  P’rhaps they din’t translate it right.  P’rhaps they din’t tell the truth.  Prob’ly whoever wrote it wasn’t even there at the time so they wouldn’t even know!”  He was gaining momentum.  “And, Jesus was perfect,” he went on, “so he wun’t ‘ave done somethin’ that hurt someone else on purpose.  And he told them disciples to stop bein’ fishermen din’t he?  And he wun’t ‘ave done that if he thought they were doin’ a good thing.  And Jesus said God cares about every sparrow so if he cares about every sparrow then he definitely cares about every fish and he said ‘thou shalt not kill’ so he couldn’t be clearer than that!”

Red in the face from talking so fast without taking a breath and satisfied he’d settled the point, Luke stomped out of the room.  Mrs Walker winced as the hall door slammed and Luke’s heavy footsteps pounded the stairs.  She held her breath until all was quiet and then, just as she relaxed back into scrubbing potatoes, her son’s face re-appeared around the door.

“Oh!” she gasped, “you made me jump.”

“Don’t get any fish,” he entreated, “please.”

The following morning at breakfast Luke was distracted.  He made no argument when Jared consumed the last of the frosted flakes; he didn’t defend himself when Dad told him off for knocking over the sugar bowl even though it was actually Jared who’d done it in his haste to grab the frosted flakes.  The rest of the family were too busy to notice, but Luke was not himself.  Eventually, when Jared and Dad had left for the day and Luke was left alone with Mum he told her,

“I’ve decided I don’t want to go to Sunday School any more.”

“Well I know you don’t want to go Luke, but you’re going.  It’s good for you.  I want you to learn good values, to be a good boy,” she responded firmly.

“I’ve got good values!” said Luke, indignant.  “What do you mean values?” he added.

Mum sighed.

“Oh Luke, being a Christian means being good and kind and respecting your father and mother and not stealing and not lying, things like that,” she explained, “doing as you’re told,” she added.

“And not killin’,” said Luke.

“Of course not killing Luke, that goes without saying,”

“But they’re killin’! They’re celebratin’ killin’ fish and if that’s Christian I don’t want to be it!”

“Oh Luke why do you have to get so angry over these things?  You might not want them to eat fish but they do.  People do.  People always have.  And so do bears and cats and birds, and even other fish Luke.  It’s the way of the world and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“I don’t want to go!  I’m not going!” he insisted.  Mum inhaled deeply and counted to ten.

“Fine.  But you are not going to just disappear like a coward without telling them why.  You’ve got to be grown up about it and make it clear to Eric why this sea harvest upsets you.”

Luke sulked.  He was not a coward.  He wasn’t afraid of anything.  They walked to school in silence, Luke was deep in thought.  When they entered the school gates they were almost run over by Simon Butler racing across their path on his new bike and then, when he knew he’d got their attention, he pulled a wheelie.

“He’s a bit of a show-off that one,” said Mum, amused.

Luke snorted.

“A bit?!” he scoffed, “more like a lot!  He’s a lot of a show-off.  He’s pretty much all show-off!  There’s nothing else to ‘im.  ‘cept idiot.  And creep.  He’s a idiot creep show-off!” Luke concluded decisively.

Mum chuckled.

“Boys will be boys,” she said, “he’s just making a point.  He’s just making it clear to everyone watching that he’s good at that.”

***

All morning, while Mr Beardsley was talking about the ancient Greeks, Luke was thinking about what Mum had told him to do.  He considered very carefully exactly what she’d said and by the time Dionysus had whisked Ariadne away from Theseus he was satisfied that he could do as he was told without compromising his prince pauls.  He’d need Joe’s help.

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Sounds like Luke’s got a plan 😉

Join us tomorrow to find out what it is,

or just read the whole story now 😀 

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Unprepared

For all the Luke Walker stories so far click here 🙂

Chapter 12 continues from yesterday:

*******

They weren’t prepared for what they found.  Parked in the field, alongside the still confined sheep, was a double decker lorry.

The top deck was already full of sheep.  The farmer was there, with his dogs, talking to the lorry driver.  It was clear to the boys what was about to happen.  That’s why they were locked up there.  They were waiting for transport.  Waiting to be taken to their deaths.  Luke and Joe stood frozen at the bus shelter. They dropped their bags of apples.

“The lorry must be late,” said Joe in a husky whisper.

“Why?”

“Coz they haven’t been fed for two days, they must’ve not known it was gonna be that long.”

“It’s not late!” snapped Luke angrily, “look how clean an’ shiny that lorry is!  I bet they don’t wanna get their lorry dirty – they don’t want no poo and wee in their lorry so they don’t let ’em eat or drink before the journey.  Their last journey!”

Joe felt a lump in his throat and his heart ached.

“That’s horrible!” he said desperately, “what can we do?  We’ve got to do something!”

Luke’s eyes started to sting as he watched them send in the dogs to herd the hungry sheep onto the lorry. He picked up the biggest stone he could find and threw it as hard as he could at the lorry’s windscreen across the road.  It missed.

“There’s nothin’ we can do!” he said, grabbing his bag of apples, “unless you’ve got a thousand pounds to pay the farmer for ’em, and a hundred allotments to keep ’em on!”

Still they hated themselves for doing nothing and walked away in silent misery.

***

Friday morning at breakfast, Luke’s dad observed how cold and wet it was.

“It’s big coat weather already,” he told his wife, “it’s amazing how quick the temperature drops once September arrives.”

“Sometimes,” Mum agreed, “it’ll probably be warm again tomorrow.”  She looked at her boys.  “Your big coats need a wash to freshen them up,” she remembered, “so you’ll have to wear an extra jumper under your summer jackets for now.”

“I’m not wearin’ that wool jumper!” said Luke firmly.

“Luke, it’s cold.  If your Dad says it’s cold then you know it is.  He’s usually hotter than the rest of us.”

“Than you,” Dad corrected her.

“Yeah,” Jared agreed, “you’re the one who’s always cold,” he laughed.

“Well then, there you go, so if Dad thinks it’s cold …”

“I’m not wearin’ that jumper!  Take it back an’ get your money back!  We’re not givin’ money to farmers!”

Everyone stopped eating.  Dad was not impressed.

“Luke Eugene Walker, how dare you speak to your mother like that?  Apologise right now!”  He spoke in that slow, quiet, angry way that meant you’d gone too far.  Luke realised he shouldn’t be taking it out on Mum.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, “but I don’t want you to pay money to sheep farmers.  I hate farmers!”

Mum’s response was gentle.

“Luke, clearly something has upset you, but the fact remains, as I told you, that wool isn’t cruel.  It doesn’t hurt them to be sheared.”

Luke tried to explain it to her in a way she would understand.

“It doesn’t make any difference,” he said, “they kill ’em anyway.”

“Not for wool they don’t.  They kill animals for leather but not for wool.”

“They kill ’em anyway,” Luke said again, “they make money out of ’em for wool; then they kill ’em and make money out of ’em for meat.  They kill ’em for money and they’re horrible, nasty, evil, criminal murderers and I don’t want you to give them any of our money!”

Nobody could argue with that.

“Okay,” said Mum, “I’ll take it back today.”

***

Joe gave Luke back the books and pens he’d left in his garden the day before.

“I forgot them last night,” he apologised.

“Me too,” said Luke, taking possession of three brand new, very soggy, text books, and two exercise books in which a lot of his work had dissolved.

“Put them on the radiator,” Joe suggested helpfully.

“Yeah,” said Luke.

The bell rang and they went their separate ways.

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The story concludes on Monday but if you don’t want to wait you can finish it here now 🙂

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A brilliant plan

For all the Luke Walker stories so far click here 🙂

Chapter 12 continues from yesterday:

*******

On their way home from school Luke and Joe discussed the Christmas concert.

“I don’t wanna be in it,” said Joe.

“You could just ‘ave a small part,” Luke suggested, “then we’d be together.”

“Oh yeah,” said Joe, but his heart wasn’t in it.  He was terrified at the thought of being on stage; of being watched by people.  Luke sympathised and racked his brains for a way that Joe could be part of the production without actually having to be on stage.  Then it came to him.

“You could be the scenery painter!” he said with great satisfaction.  “Then you’d ‘ave to be there, paintin’ the scenes while we’re rehearsin’.  Then I could chat to you when it’s not my scene and I could help you.  I could fetch your pens and paints and brushes.  You could tell ’em I’m your assistant so they don’t send me back to lessons when it’s not my scene.”

It was a brilliant plan.  Joe was as happy about it as Luke.

They ducked into Joe’s house for sheep food.  His mum was in the kitchen.

“Hello Joe, oh, and hello Luke.  Are we returning the favour tonight then?” she asked.

“What d’you mean?” said Joe, trying to think of a way to entice her from the kitchen.

“Is Luke staying here for tea today?”

“Oh, er, no. Thank you,” said Luke, “I’ve jus’ come to borra somethin’.”

That gave Joe an idea.

“Yeah, I want to lend ‘im my book about trains,” he said, “ya know, the one Auntie Sue gave me.”

“Okay,” said his mum without looking up from the potatoes she was peeling.

“on’y,” said Joe, tentatively, “I don’t know where it is.  Could you find it for me?”

“Haven’t I got enough to do?” she said indignantly, “what else do you want – shall I tie your shoelaces? Shall I clean your teeth for you?”

Joe shook his head.

“Find it yourself you cheeky beggar!” she concluded, and that was that.

The boys stepped back outside.  It was no use.  She’d started the dinner which meant she’d be in there for at least another hour.

“Sorry,” said Joe, “we’ll have to get somethin’ from yours again.”

“There’s nothin’ left to take,” said Luke, “Mum said we’ll have to have tinned veg ’til she can get to the shops again and coz she thinks I took it for Curly and Squirt and the damsons – typical! They always blame me! – she won’t let me watch telly for a week!”

The boys looked at each other and thought hard.  There had to be a way to get something to eat for those poor starving sheep.

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” said Luke, not for the first time.  Then he had a thought.  An idea.  A good one.  It might be tricky but it was do-able.

“Remember that farm behind the pony field, next to the rec?”

“Yes,” said Joe.

“They grow salads and things, in them plastic tunnels.”

“Mmm,” said Joe, nervously.

“So, I’ve seen ’em, them tunnels, all they ‘ave to do is water ’em twice a day.  The rest of the time there’s no one in ’em.”

“But they’ve got them big dogs,”

“Okay, well, we’ll take a couple o’ dog toys, and then you can distract …”

Joe shook his head.

“I don’t want to distract.”

“Okay, I’ll distract ’em and you can go into the tunnels to get the salad.”

“That’s stealin’.”

“To save lives!” Luke reminded him, “and anyway, they’ve prob’ly got hundreds o’ lettuces and cucumbers, they won’t miss a few.”

Taking Joe’s silence as tacit consent, Luke continued.

“First, we’ll go to mine to get the dog toys; and a bag; then we’ll go to the farm and I’ll climb in to play with the dogs; as soon as I’ve got their ‘ttention, you sneak into the …”

Joe laughed.

“What?” said Luke, annoyed that his great plan was a source of amusement.

“Look over there,” said Joe, pointing to the bottom of his garden.

There stood two heavily laden apple trees.

“Or,” said Luke, “we could take some apples.”

They emptied the contents of their school bags behind the water butt and replaced them with apples. With no time to lose, they headed to the muddy paddock.

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The story continues tomorrow but if you don’t want to wait you can read the whole chapter here now 🙂

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Make sure no one’s watching

For all the Luke Walker stories so far click here 🙂

Chapter 12 continues from yesterday:

*******

When they got to the bus stop they stood under the shelter and looked carefully in every direction to make sure no one was watching.  Then they hurried across the road and emptied their bags into the muddy paddock.  The sheep didn’t trust the boys and they crowded against the opposite fence.

“These’ll give ’em water as well as food,” said Luke, “I hope they like ’em.”  He was a little disappointed that they didn’t seem too keen to tuck in.

“I think they’re frightened of us,” Joe suggested, “p’rhaps we should go back over the road and watch from there.”

Luke agreed and within a few minutes the sheep bravely and hungrily partook.  The boys were extremely relieved.

“That’s good,” said Joe, “we’ll jus’ feed ’em every day ’til they let ’em out.”

“Yeah, but tomorrow we’ll get the food from your house or my mum’ll catch on.”

“Okay.”

Then they went to visit Curly and Squirt, before popping in to Joe’s house to tell his mum that he was going to tea at Luke’s.

***

On Thursday Mr Beardsley said that Year 5 were going to be responsible for the Christmas concert this year.  He said they were going to put on a musical production of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.

“… so for any of you who are aspiring singers or actors, the auditions are being held on Friday after school.”

This was interesting.  It was a good story.  The Muppet Christmas Carol was one of Luke’s favourite films.  He’d never thought of himself as an actor and the idea of performing did not really appeal to him. However, when Jared was in the school play a couple of years ago he said they had to rehearse so much that he missed loads of lessons.

“What parts?” he blurted out suddenly without thinking.  Mr Beardsley was writing on the board.

“I’m sorry?”

Luke felt a bit embarrassed.

“er, sorry, what parts are in the play?”

“Oh, er, well, lots.  Scrooge, Scrooge’s nephew, Bob Cratchit, the Spirits, Tiny Tim, …”

“They’re all boy parts,” said Tania Spriggs, one of the new girls.  She was understandably disgruntled.

“Oh, there’s lots of girls’ parts too,” said Mr Beardsley, trying to think of one. “Oh, er, there’s Mrs Cratchit, and er, the Cratchit daughters, and Scrooge’s sister, Scrooge’s nephew’s wife,” he was on a roll now.  But then he realised he wasn’t.  He couldn’t think of any more.

Tania huffed.

“The wife, the sister, the daughter!  All minor roles!” she said, dispirited, “I look forward to a school play with a strong female lead!”

“I tell you what, talk to Ms Robinson at the auditions.  She’s adapting the story into a script so I’m sure she’ll make sure there’s plenty of good roles to be had for both sexes.”

Luke gave it some more thought.  He liked the idea of being one of the spirits.  The really scary one.

Mr Beardsley resumed writing on the board.  Maths.  Again.  Luke pictured himself as the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come.  He’d have a long, black, hooded cape; his face would be painted white with black cavernous eyes; he’d have sharp talons for fingernails and …

“Luke. What’s next?”

Luke, brought abruptly from his reverie, had no idea what was being asked of him.  His bewilderment was visible.  Mr Beardsley banged the pen on the board to draw Luke’s attention to the sum written there.

“Four thousand, two hundred and seventy nine divided by twenty two.  Long division.  Max did the first part.  What’s next?”

Luke shook his head.  He really hated it when someone interrupted his train of thought.  He was in the middle of something.  What was it?  He turned to ask Joe but Joe wasn’t there.  Oh yes, the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come, that was the part for him.  Then he had another thought.  If Joe was in it too they’d be together again.  He wondered what part Joe would like.  Mr Beardsley moved on to Katia.  She didn’t know either.

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The story continues tomorrow but if you don’t want to wait you can read the whole chapter here now 🙂

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