"Are you saying my peaches aren't round enough? Hmmm? Are you, Mr. Ornamental?" Mom spat. "My peaches were grown to roll and roll far, I'll have you know! Roll Peach! Roll! Get as far away from your father's tangled web of nonsense as you can! It's your only hope! He'll do his best to block your light if you don't!"
"Terrain, I said! The terrain is the problem," Dad shouted. "Round or not, that thing isn't going to get any farther than Bordowsky and his pocketful of glad tidings."
"Goodwill, you illiterate weed tree," Mom said. "Josephus Patrick Bordowsky carried goodwill in his pocket. His stone says so."
"'His stone says so'", Dad mimicked. "Have you eve...
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