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“Life is good,” pondered Harry, as he set down his watering can. “What more could an ex-hero want?”
Yes, finally after many sleepless nights and heroic helpings of Dioxin, the cabbages were beginning to prosper. The carrots (Oh, sturdy carrots!) were never in danger, but now they stood particularly straight and tall beneath the crisp Christmas desert sun.
Yes, mused Harry, he felt much better about the world these days. He did miss his old friends, Konstantin and Yuri, not to mention Leonid. Mik, sadly, had sold himself to the vice of the paid printed word. But they had made their choices, at Harry’s insistence, Ron and Georges had reluctantly gone along with the grand scheme. Sometimes Harry felt he should talk to Bill, but always decided to gore that ox when he came to it.
A healthy slug slithered from the saffron. Harry did not even clench it with his powerful hairy toes, but gently lifted it to the saucer of beer. “An adversary deserves to die happily,” philosophized Harry. “Look at Kim, the least scrutable of the dictators, who had finally listened to Harry’s Reason, and made the final toast with a smile on his lips.
to be continued....
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