47

In attempts to explain to the stupid piece of iron, ten minutes passed. So, look, officer, she will now slowly (very slowly!) lower her left hand and take out an ID card from the pocket of her tights. No, the godless augmentation and other central pumps are not the imam. That's right, sectarian. Licensed. Everything is there, on the chip. Just don't shoot.

And after all, he knows her as flaky, but all the same scoffs.

And most importantly, the last anti-vaxxer south of Luavul was seen maybe a hundred years ago, even before the last pandemic of the green fungus, I also found something to hesitate.

When the quacking and hooting flasher nevertheless drove off to the next threshold, to pester others, the good mood had already gone.

She gave a short wave to the old fart with the binoculars in the opposite window - let him finally admire her nipples swaying under the transparent fabric of the raincoat - and slapped down the ruet, habitually springing and bouncing on the barely coping with p
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