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Fucked Up Fairy Tales (danidoo88 and Mr Quixotic)

Danidoo

I do not think it means what you think it means
Supporter
Joined
Jun 9, 2016
Ladies, gentlemen and all others who may have wandered into our epically titled thread of epicness, be warned! Virgin eyes and innocent hearts, we beseech you to look away! Mothers hide your daughters, fathers protect your sons! For herein lies a titillating tale of disgraceful debauchery. Yes, there will be no end to the salaciously scintillating sexual scenarios but that is not all! This is a tale of awesome bravery, heinous villains, an abundance of witty sarcasm and a deluge of devilishly dishonorable deeds.

If you have chosen to ignore our warning, prepare yourselves to join us as we observe a quad of well meaning, if not entirely competent, nosy busybodies with a propensity to get themselves into incredibly awkward, often terrible and terribly funny situations doing their part to fix a world where not every ending is a happy one.

You will laugh.
You will cry.
You will get down on your knees and beg us for more!

So sit back and enjoy. We know we will.​
 
Winter was near and the nights were turning colder. The trees were almost bare of leaves and the time to find shelter was running out. So too were the supplies in her pack. Berries, nuts and roots were getting harder and harder to find as the season ended and the forest creatures were scouring everywhere for that last bit of food before they bedded down for the cold months. That and she had never been much of a gatherer to begin with.

Goldilocks was cold, hungry and exhausted from days...or was it weeks now?...of wandering in the woods. She had lost the dogs and the villagers three days ago...had it only been three?...by rolling in some mud to hide her scent but it would only be a matter of time before they caught the trail again. She needed to find somewhere to shelter and she needed to find it fast.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

She had been happy when her father had been alive, happy even after her mother had remarried, despite the way her new husband looked at her when he thought no one was watching. She was going to marry the merchant’s son...well, as soon as she found a merchant with a handsome son, or at least a son that she could stand, anyway. He was going to take her away from her small village to a big city where they would live in one of those quaint little townhomes and take tea with the prince and his new princess. Better yet, the prince himself would have wandered by their village on his way back from some foreign land and fall desperately in love with her and her golden hair.

But her mother had died and her stepdad had, in his infinite mercy, decided that he just couldn’t leave poor innocent Goldie to fend for herself. Before her mother was even cold in the ground, he had announced to the entire village that he would be taking her on as his bride. Then he had locked her in “their” home until the big day.

Which is why she found herself half frozen in nothing but a pair of stolen boots with holes in the soles, a threadbare cloak that had seen better days ,also stolen, and a tattered and dirty wedding gown that was not meant for fleeing in the woods. She had managed to find a pack at the same place she had stolen to boots and cloak and had filled it as she ran with whatever food and other supplies she could find. Now, though, she was down to barely a bite of moldy bread and a half drained water-skin.

”I need to find food and shelter soon,” she thought as she rubbed her arms for warmth. ”If I don’t, I’ll surely die.”

-----------------------------------------------

Goldie eyed the cabin in the woods with suspicion then looked at the sky for chimney smoke or any other signs that there were other homes nearby. She was miles and miles into the woods by now and she hadn’t seen any signs of people since she had lost the hunters and hounds.

She looked back at the cabin and bit her lip. Who would live out here? An evil sorcerer? A witch? She thought about it as she looked over the decently sized structure. No, it didn't look like an evil dwelling...not that she knew what an evil dwelling was supposed to look like. Wasn't there a rumor about a little old woman who lived in the middle of the woods. What was that song? Over the river and through the woods? Hadn't she gone over a river a few days ago? If this place belonged to a sweet old grandma, maybe the woman would be willing to share a meal in exchange for some housework.

Decision made, Goldie exited the cover of trees and slunk into the clearing. She didn't know why she was being so cautious. She was certain that this was the grandma's house from the rumor. Yet her skin prickled with foreboding the closer she got to the door. Perhaps she was just wary because she was being hunted, perhaps it was excitement disguised as fear or perhaps she really was walking to her doom, drawn like a moth to flame by the possibility of a warm meal.

Whatever the reason, she hesitated for a moment before the door. Then she shook her head at her silliness and knocked.

“Excuse me! Is anyone home?! I…”

She what? She couldn’t say that she was running away from home. Not for the reason she was running anyway. An older woman wouldn’t understand why she didn’t want her stepfather to take care of her...even considering how he wanted to do so. That sort of thing happened all the time, didn’t it?

She cleared her throat. “I got lost in the woods and I don’t know my way back to the trail. Please, if you could just point me in the right direction…” No need to suggest that she hoped to be let inside out of the cold.

Goldie put her ear to the door after a moment when no one answered and frowned. She couldn’t hear any kind of movement inside. She stepped back a few steps and looked up. There was smoke coming from the chimney, that must mean that someone was inside or at least nearby.

Her frown deepened and she moved to the side of the house to look in all of the windows. She couldn’t see anything out of place but...What if the old woman had fallen and hurt herself somewhere beyond the view of the windows? What if she was sick in bed and couldn’t get up to call for help? What if the cabin was abandoned and the smoke was from the dying embers of the last fire?

She moved back to the front door and tried the latch, fully expecting it to be locked. When it opened easily without even the squeak of hinges, Goldie hesitated again. Why would anyone let alone an old lady leave her house unlocked. Sure, it was in the middle of the woods where she doubted anyone even knew it existed but it still seemed rather dangerous. Being secluded like this didn’t necessarily mean it was safe. It also meant that there would be no one around to help if a thief did help themselves to whatever lay within.

Her thoughts were filled once again with the possibility that whoever lived here had magic of some kind. If one spelled the threshold with a curse, one wouldn’t really be worried about whether or not the door was locked, now would one.

She looked around the clearing a final time and then sighed. She was being ridiculous. She was hungry and desperate and...was that porridge she smelled? All of her misgivings disappeared as she took another sniff of the air coming from within the home and her feet moved forward of their own accord. Food! Warm food!

Despite the way her mouth watered at the sight of the three steaming bowls on the table, Goldie shut the door and did a quick sweep of the house to make sure that there really wasn’t an injured old woman. Even starving as she was, she would have felt awful if someone had needed her assistance and she had been too busy satisfying her belly to look for them.

Satisfied that the house was empty, she moved toward the largest bowl and greedily shoved the porridge laden spoon in her mouth. Then she froze. Her eyes began to water. Her mouth burned. It took everything in her to swallow her mouthful and then she fell into a coughing fit before grabbing the large mug of milk beside the bowl and chugging it.

“Stars,” she rasped as she swiped at her tear-streaked cheeks, “someone likes their spices.” There had been so much cinnamon in the porridge that her mouth was on fire with it. She could still taste it even after dousing her tongue with the milk!

Shaking her head, she warily made her way over to the second bowl, this time taking a much smaller bite. Her tiny button nose wrinkled and she sighed once she had swallowed. Bland. If the first bowl was too spicy, this one seemed to have forgotten spices altogether. It would do, if she had no other choice. It was definitely more edible than the first but…

Goldie moved to the last bowl and picked up the spoon. “Please don’t have salt or something else absurd.” She pleaded with the bowl before she took the bite. Once again her eyes widened only this time she gave a happy sigh. Just right. Thank all the gods!

Once she had finished her meal, the exhaustion of the last few days hit her all at once and she swayed on her feet.

“Oh my,” she gasped before she stumbled into the family area, for it was clear to her now that this was a family home. A family of three.

She collapsed into the first chair that she reached and winced as her weary butt slammed against the deceptively stiff cushion. “Ouch.” Hadn’t she had enough of sitting on the hard dirt or the stony floor of a cave?! Who would want a chair like this!

She shoved herself to her feet and moved to the second chair in the room. This time when she sat, she sank several inches into the seat and had to wiggle and roll to get back out again. No, not that chair either.

Once she got to the final chair she wasn’t sure she wanted to even try sitting it in. It looked like it might be more comfortable than the other two but it also looked like it had seen better days. Perhaps it was a hand-me-down? She looked at the other two chairs and then at the table with the three bowls. At least one of the bowls of porridge was perfect, would she get so lucky with the chairs as well?

She huffed out a breath and took a tentative seat. “Oh yes, much better.” She smiled and had just settled back to get comfortable when the blasted thing broke into pieces.

“Gods above!” She cried with a frustrated stomp of her foot. She had only wanted to rest for a moment. Was one moment too much to ask for?

Grumbling to herself, she decided to go back to the bedrooms she had found in her earlier search. She really didn’t want to lie down, since she was certain that she would sleep for far longer than she would have in a chair, but she was so tired and the food had only made her eyelids heavier. Just a quick nap. A quick nap and then she would leave.

The first bed she tried was as stiff as the first chair and she wondered what was wrong with the owner of both pieces of furniture that they hated comfort. What was even the point of making it look like a bed? Why not just sleep on the bloody floor?!

She left the first room rubbing her poor bottom and muttering curses under her breath. She almost didn’t even want to try the second one. With her luck in this house, it would probably be just as awful as the first but in a completely different way. Still, she reluctantly entered the room and made her way to the bed.

A few minutes later, she stomped out of the room and slammed the door. “Honestly!! How do they not suffocate, sinking down to the floor like that!”

At least she had a feeling that the next bed would work out for her. She opened the door and strode straight for the bed, ripping off her soiled cloak as she went. She would have to remember to clean up all of the mud and dirt she had left on the floors, beds and chairs before she left but right now all she wanted to do was sleep.

She didn’t even bother to test the bed before she got in. She knew before she even sat down that it would be just right and she was not disappointed. “At least there is one sane person living in this house.” She pouted and was asleep before her head even hit the pillow.
 
The chill of oncoming winter permeated the morning air after the trio had made their final purchase from the market stall and journeyed home. They strode along the dirt path - a slaughtered hog slung over one’s shoulders as a treat for dinner - beneath the thick canopy of leaves. Surrounded by the relaxing sounds of birds chirping in the trees and knowing they’d finished their work for the day, the Bear’s were in a jovial mood.

At first glance, they'd be mistaken for siblings. Only when approached closely would you notice the barrel-chested male who walked a step ahead was of greater age than the other two. A Father and his sons. The Patriarch was Paddington Bear, commonly known as Papa, who stood at six foot two, with a thick mass of curly brown hair atop his head. His forearms were the size of hams, his hands rough and calloused, and his skin weathered by the sun. He carried not an ounce of fat.

A large man, Paddington intimidated by size alone. Yet, not those who had spent time with him, and heard the laugh which emanated deep in his belly before it erupted from his mouth. Nor those not too taken by his breadth and width to notice that his brown eyes crinkled with warmth and good humour. Bear by name, bear by size, but not by nature. Unless provoked.

His two sons, Edward, ‘Teddy’ Bear and Rupert were men, but still young and yet to stop growing. Attired, as Aloysius was, in linen breeches and shirts of varying hues, with woollen vests, the boy’s features were alike enough to their Papa’s for there to be no doubt the three were related. There were also noticeable differences. Teddy, the youngest, had inherited his Father’s chocolate brown eyes and curled dark-chestnut hair, but was shorter and his shoulders weren’t as broad. Rupert would be larger than even Papa, but in contrast to Paddington and Edward had green eyes and blond hair. Like his mother, Wilhemina.

Wilhemina. The conversation and laughter abated when they entered a clearing and their dwelling came into view. As always, Papa experienced a mixture of sadness and contentment as he looked upon it. This was the house he’d slept in every night of his life since he was a boy, and where he’d enjoyed many happy times. When he was but six years of age, he’d helped his own Father, Aloysius, build it. Paddington had cut down the trees, sawed the branches into pieces, and hammered in the nails with his very own hands. Or that’s how he remembered it. Constructed of forest wood and topped with a thatched roof, the cottage hadn’t changed in all those years.

Inside, a small foyer opened into a spacious living area, in which the family spent most evening’s together. They’d rest in their favourite chairs, facing the open hearth, and stay up to the small hours reading, talking, laughing, eating and drinking. Off to the left sat a kitchen where Mrs Bear used to cook; duties now shared by the three men. Out of sight were areas for ablutions and laundering. At the rear lay the Master bedroom, the highlight of which was the four-poster bed Papa had fashioned himself. The boy’s bedrooms were on the Eastern side of the cottage. From the windows, they could look out over the green valleys where the Bear’s goats and cows roamed free.

A place of great joy, but also one of sorrow, as Wilhemina had died in the cottage. For a period three years ago, after she’d succumbed to a bout of food poisoning following a feast at Old Mother Hubbard’s and Papa was in the worst of his grief, he’d thought of leaving. To avoid the reminder of what he’d miss so terribly. But he knew in his heart he wouldn’t. Home held too many good memories. Though, if that had been the decision he’d taken, he could have afforded it. Buried In the back garden, untouched for two decades, lay a trove of gold coins.

The coins had been a gift to his Father from the Queen of a Faraway Land. A modest man was Aloysius, and it wasn’t until Paddington's teen years, only a week before the plague had stolen his parents, that he’d regaled his son with the story. Paddington had heard how his Papa had risked death, dismemberment, torture and worse. Of how he’d defeated a legendary troll and rescued a princess from a tower protected by a vicious ogre.

Aloysius had bested the ogre, too, in a battle which lasted for days, and returned the young lady to her rightful place as heir to her Country’s throne. He’d rejected all honours and accolades - it had been an adventure, what further reward did he need? - and accepted the gold reluctantly. He’d bequeathed the treasure to his only son, as he had the house, with the stipulation that Paddington would know the time to make use of it, but that time had never come. Leaving Papa to yearn for the opportunity for adventure that his Father had taken, and a chance to replicate his heroic deeds.

“Papa, did you forget to shut the door?”

Teddy’s voice brought Paddington out of his reverie. His head whipped around, then his eyes followed a pointed finger and he saw what his youngest son had seen. The front door was ajar, and anger rose in his massive chest. The trio dropped the produce in their arms onto the grass, and the same thought passed through each of their minds. Papa never forgot to close the door, and it was too sturdy and secure to have unlatched by itself. That could mean only one thing.

“Someone has violated the sanctity of our abode. Teddy, around the back. If they're still inside, we don’t want them to escape.” Papa shook with fury as he directed his youngest.

Who would be so stupid, or desperate, as to enter their home uninvited and try to steal their possessions?

“Teddddddddddddddddyyyyyyy.”

Of course, the boy ignored him and raced on into the house.

“Rupppppperrrrrrrttttttt.”

As did his second son

“Fuck it.” Muttering under his breath, pride flared in Papa as his boys sped headlong into the face of danger without a thought for their safety, before he followed their lead.

“Someone’s been eating my porridge.”

“Mine, too.”

The Patriarch looked from Rupert to Edward, who stared quizzically at their breakfast dishes on the dining table, then at his bowl. “Mine three.” An eyebrow quirked as he tried to figure out what it meant.

“And someone’s been sitting in my chair.”

“Mine too.”

Turning as Rupert and Teddy brushed past him, Papa eyed the seats in the living room, gaze roaming from one to the other. “Mine, three.” This was getting stranger and stranger. “Boys, check your....”

They’d already gone.

Seconds later, three doors opened simultaneously.

“Someone’s been sleeping in my bed,” called Teddy, peering in at the mussed sheets.

“Mine too.” Rupert.

“Someone is sleeping in my bed.”

It took his sons a moment to realise Papa had used the present tense. When it sunk in, the duo turned in unison and scampered towards his room. Arriving together, they collided in a tangle of limbs at the door, excitement and curiosity lighting up their faces. The two were still trying to make it inside when Paddington tapped the intruder’s feet and his booming voice echoed off the walls. “Out of bed, young lady. You have some explaining to do.”
 
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The branches of the trees ripped at her face and arms as she sped through the dense wood in her attempt to flee her ho...her stepfather’s home. Not hers any longer. Not after her mother died.
Her dress caught and the sound of tearing fabric mingled with the terror inducing baying of hounds and lewd calls of her persurers chased her deeper into the forest than she had ever dared go before.

They would catch her. Of course they would catch her. It was only a matter of time before her legs gave out and her will finally snapped. She would become Mrs. Goldie Forester, former stepdaughter and now wife of William Forester, one of the best huntsman this side of Grimmsdale.

No…

No…

She would run...She had to run…

A cabin in the woods appeared before her and a kindly old woman threw open the door with as much force as someone so tiny and feeble could.

“Quick, my dear, you must hurry!” The woman cried as she beckoned her inside with so much wild enthusiasm that Goldie worried that she might break something if she wasn’t careful. Not wanting to cause such an upset as a dislocated shoulder or worse, Goldie veered toward the house and rushed inside, only relaxing when the woman slammed and latched the door with surprising force.

“Now,” the old woman said, dusting her hands in a dismissing manner, “let’s get you warmed up and fed. Those nasty brutes out there won’t come knocking on
my door.”

It
did give Goldie a moment’s pause to wonder why exactly that was but beggars could not be choosers and she did not have time to worry if this was one of the cannibalistic grannies you heard about in the peddlers tales. So, instead, she followed the old woman to her kitchen where she produced the most delicious bowl of porridge she had ever tasted.

“Oh my, Grandmother, this is delicious!” She cooed in pleasure as she finished the entire bowl.

“You’re sweet, dear, now come. You look like you’re dead on your feet. Let’s get you tucked in for the night and we’ll figure out what to do about those men in the morning.” The Grandmother said, then chuckled at Goldie’s confused look. “Well, you didn’t think we would just let them run around out there thinking they could treat you like a rabbit, did you? You see, dear, I’m a witch.” More chuckling. “Oh no, child, not a bad witch. Not like the stories. At least not to good little girls. No but those men might be sorry. Oh yes they might.”

“Will you turn them into toads, Granny?”

“Something like that.” The old woman grinned a knowing grin and patted her back as she lead Goldie to her room. “Let’s just say that they won’t be causing you any troubles anymore.” She gave Goldie a reassuring kiss on the cheek and then began to leave the room. “Sleep well, child and all will be well.” She said with a pat on her foot.

Then she patted more insistently. “Out of bed, young lady. You have some explaining to do.”


Goldie groaned and rolled over in her sleep. “But, Granny, you just tucked me in!” She whined, then pulled the covers over her head.

Wait...That hadn’t sounded like any Granny she had ever heard.

No, that voice had sounded distinctly male.

Gods above, her stepfather had found her! Oh no! Oh no!!

That hadn’t sounded like her stepfather either though.

Wincing, Goldie slowly brought the covers down and pried one eye open to look at whoever was in the room with her. Then she opened the other eye and blinked sleepily at the very large man staring accusingly at her from the foot of the bed. Oh he was definitely not her stepfather. She scanned him slowly as her brain tried, unsuccessfully, to catch up with what she was seeing.

“Hello, Grandma.” She purred with a cheeky smirk before everything suddenly kicked in and her face morphed from a tired flirty expression to one of abject horror.

She sat bolt upright. “Oh Gods! This is...you live...Oh Gods!” Her face flamed and she was certain that she was as red as a berry. “Well this is certainly embarrassing.” She said once she got past the initial awkwardness of knowing that she was in a man’s bed. That is, until she looked down and realized that she was still in her torn wedding dress and some of the rips were in some rather scandalous places, even with the thin chemise underneath.

Her face once again on fire, she pulled the cover back up to hide her chest and looked around for the tattered cloak. She spotted it a good distance away between the big man and…

Goldie blinked several times when she spotted the other two men. Stars and sprites and pixie bites! What had she gotten herself in to? Why were they all so huge? What did these men eat? Well, besides porridge. Hopefully not poor innocent women that happened to stumble into their house looking for food and shelter. That would just be…

She put on a shaky smile and stood from the bed, wrapping the blanket around herself as she edged toward the cloak. Then she cleared her throat. “My greatest apologies, good sirs…” She cleared her throat again. “I was supposed to be visiting my sweet old granny and I seem to have gotten turned around. I...uh…” She looked at her covered but not forgotten state of dress. “Was lost and was spooked by an owl of all things and...well, I wasn’t really dressed for running in the woods like a madwoman so…”

With as much speed as she could muster, she lunged forward, grabbed her cloak and then jumped out of an open window…

Straight into a thorny blackberry bush.

Curses that could make a woodcutter blush filled the chilly fall air as Goldie quickly extricated herself from the demon plant and started for the woods. She was barefoot now and without her pack but she would have to make do until she could find another village. If she survived that long with those behemoths after her. If they cared enough to chase her at all.
 
“Who is it, Papa?” The larger of the two, Rupert pushed through the door ahead of his brother.

That allowed space for Teddy to enter. His eyes widened to the size of saucers when he spotted the golden-haired girl laying in Paddington’s bed. “Is it?” His jaw dropped and pure wonder lit up his features.

With arms folded across his chest and staring at the intruder, Papa missed his son’s excitement. When her eyes flickered open and her lips parted to speak, he arched a brow in question.

“Hello, Grandma.”

What the heck? Papa blinked twice in confusion, then twice again, unsure he’d heard her correctly.

Grandma?

By the time he’d established that he had, the girl had shifted in the bed and drew Papa’s attention to her dishevelled state. Concerns about the invader being a thief receded. She appeared frightened, unkempt, hungry and as if she was on the run from someone.

After three failed attempts, Teddy stuttered his question out, “Is it Cinderella?”

Thwack.

“Ouch, what was that for?” Teddy rubbed his scalp.

“Cinderella. You moron! Do I look like an ugly stepsister?” Rupert smacked him a second time for good measure, then turned to his Father.

“It’s Sleeping Beauty, isn’t it Dad?”

“Now he thinks he’s a fucking Prince,” his younger brother muttered, still massaging his sore head.

“Language, son.”

“Sorry, Papa.”

“It’s neither. If you boys can shut your traps for three seconds, we’ll find out who she is. Our guest is trying to talk.“

While Paddington refocused on their visitor, the chastened boys stood silent. Though that didn’t stop their gazes from drifting as the trespasser sat up, exposing naked skin. Friend’s once more, they exchanged grins and ogled her cleavage.

Sympathy overcame Papa when he sighted the torn wedding dress and she must have realised the show she was providing the trio of men. She drew the sheets up to cover herself and moved to her feet, all the while telling her tale. Papa met her gaze and shook his head, “Tell the truth, honey. It‘s okay.” A child wouldn’t believe the Grandma story. He reached out to comfort her with a pat on the shoulder, but before he could, the boys giggled at a shared joke and Paddington instead pirouetted to glare at Teddy and Rupert. Their quiet obedience could only last so long.

Distracted, the next Paddington knew, bedding struck him in the face, obscuring his vision, and a whoosh of air brushed past.

The girl fled.

“We’ll get her, Papa.”

After tearing the blankets away and tossing them aside, he saw Rupert dive through the open window, curled up in a ball, somersault onto the grass and spring to his feet outside. Teddy followed behind him.

Paddington used the front door and exited as the boys raced into the forest in pursuit of the young woman. Twigs crackled, branches snapped and forest animals chirped and barked at the noise they made. He cupped his hands to his mouth, using them as a microphone, “Don’t scare the poor thing.”

Deep into the treeline, the foliage became denser and Rupert tugged at Teddy‘s arm, jerking him to a halt. Finger pressed to his lips, he urged his sibling to remain silent and listened for the telltale sounds of the girl’s traipse through the undergrowth. “Let’s split up and flank her.”

Meanwhile, Paddington Bear, gauging her speed and direction, cut a diagonal path to take up a position in front of the girl and hid behind the trunk of an oak tree.

A short while later, he glimpsed her, barefooted and tattered dress flapping in the breeze, headed straight for him. Papa waited until she closed to within twenty feet before he revealed himself.

Rupert and Teddy crept up on either side.

“Stop.” Hands held up with palms outwards in a gesture of conciliation, Paddington kept his voice low and soft; attempting to appear as non-threatening as a Bear could be. “I mean no harm, and if you’re in trouble, maybe we can help. Come on back to the cottage. These woods are perilous for a woman all alone.”
 
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Only a mad woman would believe that she could possibly outrun three giants in her state of well-being. Goldie may have had a full belly for the first time in days...or was it weeks?...she still wasn’t sure but she was underfed, exhausted, dehydrated, cut up to hell after the evil bush and barefoot. Her body was sore, her legs burned, she had landed heavily on her feet and they prickled ominously and she was quite certain that she had done something terrible to one of her ankles.

Still, she was a determined maiden...well damsel anyway...in distress and she was going to press on for as long as she could. If she had been lucky, which, by now, it was clear she was not, the owners of the cottage would have given up the chase by now. She could run off into the sunset and perhaps get mauled by a wolf or something equally as tragic instead of all the horrible scenarios going through her head about what would happen if those men caught her.

Oddly enough, it was the idea that they might return her to her stepfather that scared her the most. If they only wished for her to pay for her meal and the bed she had so briefly rested her head upon, she would find a way to do that. She was mostly sure she could still make a lock, if they wanted...and if they had the materials...and a forge. No, that wouldn’t work. She could perhaps clean house?

She slowed to a stop with a small groan when the man who had woken her stepped out from behind a tree and bent over double, one hand clutching the stitch in her side while the other massaged a cramping calf. How far had she run? Not far, judging by how quickly they had caught up with her. She glared at the man’s legs. Bloody long strided freak wasn’t even winded whereas Goldie was gasping like a fish out of water!

Well, now what was she going to do?

She held up the hand that had been holding her side in a bid to ask for a moment to catch her breath while she thought of what to do next. Running clearly wasn’t an option. She was close to collapsing where she stood and the man was too...too everything. Besides, she had heard loud crashing behind her whilst she had been running and she was certain that the other two would be joining them soon...if they weren’t already there in the trees. She was likely penned in with nowhere to run.

With one more gulp of air, Goldie stood and eyed the man in front of her.

“First, I would like to apologize for messing your home. That was rude of me. It was doubly rude to eat your food and sleep in your bed. I saw the smoke and the door was unlatched and I used that to my benefit without considering that I was invading someone’s home and eating their meals.”

She winced and then bent once more to massage the ankle she had landed poorly on after a painful twinge.

“Second,” she huffed from her awkward position, “I would like to thank you for your kind offer of aid. However, as you have said, it is perilous for a woman to be all alone and, pardon me if I offend, but you are three very large men and I am not sure it would be any safer with you than it would be in the woods with the wolves and other such predators of the animal sort. Again, I mean no offense, but how can I trust that I will not come to harm in your home?”

Not that that really mattered. Her knife was back a the house with her pack and, even if she had had it on her, she doubted it would have done much good with the colossus standing before her. His flesh was probably as tough as a rock too. A giant unmovable mountain of a man and her just a tiny waifish girl with nothing but a tattered cloak and a wedding dress for protection. If he really wanted to take her back to the cabin, there was not much she could do about it and that was only considering him. He had two backup mountains sneaking around in the woods.

Still, if he was being genuine about meaning her no harm, perhaps she might still make it out of this in one piece. “What do you want of me? I cannot pay you now but I promise that I shall see you paid as soon as I can.” As soon as she found a way to get to a town that hadn’t heard of her stepfather and wouldn’t be likely to turn her in for a reward but she would just keep that part to herself.
 
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In fine physical shape from constant hard labour in the fields, Papa Bear didn't break a sweat as he navigated in front of the girl. He moved with a sure-footed silent grace that belied his size and wouldn't betray his position, but he couldn't say the same for his sons. Rupert and Teddy's path he followed by the panicked squeaks and chirps their stomping boots elicited from frightened animals along the way. When he arrived at his hiding spot, they remained a hundred yards distant.

"Whoa." His attempts at appearing non-threatening hadn't worked if the girl's expression and the way she shrunk back after he'd revealed himself was any sign. Not that he could blame her. With his height and breadth, Papa probably loomed in her perception like a fairy-tale giant. A creature who could snap her in half like a twig. Her eyes darted side to side, yet she didn't try to flee. Likely because she knew it was no use, or she was too tired. Shoeless, in her tattered wedding dress and holding her side while she gasped for air, the blonde gave Papa the impression she could collapse into an exhausted heap at any second.

When she straightened up and motioned for a moment to gather her breath, Paddington nodded and halted his approach. He stayed rooted to the spot while she spoke, careful to make no sudden moves or sounds that could inflame her fear. Eyebrows furrowed, he refrained from chuckling when she mentioned being no safer with them than alone in the forest. Someone had taught her about stranger danger, and the girl had a point. Once she silenced, he smiled, "How will you get the funds to compensate us. By utilising your house-breaking skills again?" and shook his head. "I require no payment for a few meagre spoonfuls of porridge and a much-needed nap."

"Papa." From either side, the two boys broke out of the tree line, feet scrambling for purchase in the dirt and stared at Paddington and the girl.

"Will she come home with us?' Teddy's eyes lit up with excitement at the prospect.

"That's not my call; it's up to the young lady." Papa continued to look at the girl while he spoke to his son. Pretty she was, and young and nubile. He knew what went through his boy's minds. "She can risk our company or deal with the perils of the forest on her own. Orcs, Trolls, Big Bad Wolves and Cannibal Witches who roast children for dinner."

That was going a little over the top, for those legends belonged to Faraway Lands, not the Bear's oasis.

"Mothers who live in a shoe."

Except that last.

"No, Dad, we can't leave her." Trembling with restrained anger, Rupert glared at his Father. "It's not right. She needs our help."

Papa ignored him and continued on, addressing her directly. "That's not even the worst of the dangers is it, Miss of the Golden Locks? If we tracked you, what about the man you were to betroth?" Her attire allowed Papa to take an educated stab at the girl's circumstances. "Do you believe he and his posse won't do the same?"

"Stop it, you're scaring her." Teddy's plaintive cry sailed through the air.

Not one to be deterred from his task, Paddington didn't pause for breath "Once they catch you, they'll drag you back to the place whence you escaped and ensure you never encounter freedom again. If that's your choice, so be it. My Father, Aloysius, raised me to respect a woman's wish and that's how I've raised Rupert and Teddy as well."

With that left hanging for her to contemplate, he met his the boys with a sombre expression and tone of voice that brooked no disagreement, "Go home."

Fists curling into balls, Edward reluctantly acceded to the directive. "Be safe," he called out from his spot in the trees before he graced his Father with a look that could turn most mortals to stone and vanished back into the woods.

"Here, have these." Rupert stepped out onto the trail and stopped by her side. Disappointment darkened his eyes as he removed his shoes, dropped them next to the girl, then unbuttoned his shirt. Off his broad shoulders, it came, revealing a barrel chest. A faint trail of hair led down from his defined pecks to the flat of his stomach, his six-pack rippled from his exertions and Rupert's tanned skin glistened with a sheen of sweat. Even under the difficult circumstances, the exhibitionist of the Bear trio had found an excuse to display his physique.

"Rupert!"

The boy jumped at Papa's harsh bark and dropped the shirt at her feet. "Take care," he whispered. Without a backwards glance at his Father, he joined Edward on the trail home.

Paddington watched them leave and waited until their footsteps receded into the distance before he turned back to the girl. "Two better sons a man couldn't ask for. It's been three years since my wife, their mother, passed, and the cottage isn't the same without the laughter of a woman. They miss her terribly. We all do."

Walking as he talked, Papa closed to within a foot of the girl. "You can fend for yourself or you can trust my word and return to the cottage where a succulent pork feast, a hot bath and a comfortable bed awaits. Not to mention, you'll be in the presence of three men big and ugly enough to make anyone who comes looking for you scurry off with their tail between their legs. It's your decision."

He squeezed her shoulder, then entered the forest after his boys, having no fucking idea what card he'd play next if she didn't follow.
 
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As the man moved closer, Goldie watched him with a puzzled expression on her face. It seemed as though he was approaching her like he would a cornered animal. She tilted her head in thought. Was that how she appeared? Perhaps. She had run like a startled deer when they caught her in their house. It had been, in her mind, the most appropriate response after having been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

His bemused smile when she finished speaking wrankled and it was a struggle not to react. Was he laughing at her? Her question had been very reasonable. What? Was she just supposed to trust these giant oafs just because they hadn’t immediately attacked her for being in their home uninvited? Was she just supposed to believe that this man was truly harmless just because he behaved in a nonthreatening manner? No! She was a young girl that was clearly in dire straights and just as clearly unarmed. Of course she should be wary. Although, thinking about it now, what guarantee did she have that he would answer honestly?

His response after that stupid smile was even worse and she clenched her teeth to keep from speaking. What did this man know of her abilities? Yes, she had broken into a house out of desperation...though she still maintained that leaving one’s home unlocked was asking for someone to break in...that didn’t mean that she didn’t have skills to make a living. She could be a famous artist or musician or the daughter of a wealthy landowner or a princess pretending to be a pauper to avoid a distasteful fate! She didn’t even care that in the next breath he forgave her intrusion. How presumptuous to think that she was unskilled!

So caught up in her inner rage, she had forgotten about the other two mammoths of men and consequently jumped when they suddenly spoke from the surrounding darkness. No wonder the man had been treating her like she was about to flee. If her first response was to startle at every snap of twig.

Silently, Goldie watched the exchange between the three men, her eyes narrowing at “Papa” every time he directed a passive aggressive statement her way. He was trying to scare her into joining them and it was only serving to fan the fire of her steadily increasing anger. Well, except that last one. The idea of being roped into babysitting or becoming a governess for a bunch of screaming brats in a shoe made her shudder. No, thank you very much.

Her eyes widened when he said her name and, for the first time since he had stepped in front of her, Goldie thought about running. How did he know her name? Had he already heard about her flight from the villagers? Were they close enough that they had encountered them somewhere in the woods? They didn’t look familiar so she didn’t think that they came into the village for supplies. It couldn’t have spread to the other villages nearby...could it? It had been a long time and she had lost count of the days in the woods. She had been on the run for long enough that she had lost a considerable amount of weight...Had it really been weeks? She had thought it had only been a mental exaggeration because she was tired and hungry. She thought about asking what day it was but…

He did know! Gods above and below!! He knew! They were going to take her back!

Goldie looked around frantically for a place to escape. Could she turn around and run back to the cabin? What if she only started in that direction? Would she have enough time to veer off track before one of the younger men came up on her sides. She seemed to be at least faster than they were, even if the older man was some kind of champion runner…

She blinked in confusion when one of the boys stepped forward and removed his own shoes to place them at her feet. He was giving her his shoes? She gave him a questioning look and then looked back down at the shoes as she tried to comprehend what she had missed during her panic. This small act of kindness to a stranger touched her and a tightness in her chest suddenly made it very difficult to breathe. If she did, she was certain that she would cry and…

She glanced back up at him to thank him but then felt her cheeks instantly flare with heat. Oh my...

Goldie’s mouth began to water and she swallowed roughly so as not to drool. Had she wandered into the den of some forest gods or something? Leshiye, perhaps. They could shape change, couldn’t they? Didn’t they kidnap young maidens to...uh...make Leshiye babies? She couldn’t remember the tales accurately. Maybe they were just the ones that lead travellers astray. Should she turn her dress backward? Did she really mind if this one kidnapped her? She eyed the muscled contours of his now naked chest and decided that no, she didn’t think she would mind at all.

At the sudden bark from “Papa” she jumped right along with Lord of the Bulging Pectorals. Then she let out a breath that she only then realized she was still holding. Stars and sprites, she had not prepared herself for that!

When Manly Muscles turned to go, she almost ran after him right then but she snapped herself out of it. She was not going to make a possibly life ending decision based on a chest...or a now visible back that was just as impressive as the front...Gods save her! No! No she would not do that. Not at all.

As she finally turned to “Papa” to tell him so, her eyes widened once more at his sudden closeness. When had he moved? Surely she hadn’t been that distracted by all that...man.

Her mouth once again flooded with saliva when he mentioned the pork feast. How was it that the word succulent almost had a flavor to it? Her stomach gave a loud grumble and she nearly wept again at the idea of getting clean as well. How long had it been since she had been truly clean? And a hot bath. The quick dips she had taken in the streams had been frigid and far from pleasant and a hot bath sounded heavenly.

She blinked and looked around, realizing only then that she was alone. Yep... Leshiye. Had to be. She couldn’t have been distracted in her own thoughts long enough for him to just walk away. Unless she had gone crazy? Had she lost consciousness? Had then even been there in the first place?

Goldie looked down at her feet at the clothes that had been left behind. They had been there. Here was proof.

She looked behind her and just barely caught a glimpse of “Papa” through the trees.

Damn. Well, she would likely die either way. At least if she followed them, she might get food and shelter before doing so.

With a speed that she didn’t know she had left in her, she slipped on the boots, that were far too big for her, and slipped on the shirt, which could have counted as a short dress all on its own, before hurrying after them...or hurrying as much as the unruly boots would allow.

“Eeep!” She cried out as she tripped and crashed into “Papa’s” back. The shoes had been a sweet gesture but she was liable to kill herself in them.

Clearing her throat, she straightened and took a few steps back. “A moment, please. I had only asked a question, I never said I wouldn’t go home with you. As you said, I have very few options. However! I do feel the need to correct you in your assessment of my abilities to take care of myself. I have been in the woods for a long time now and I have done pretty well. I haven’t died and I only have a few scrapes here and there. Maybe part of that was luck, I will give you that, but I am not bloody helpless!” She took a deep breath and forced herself to calm. “That said, despite the fact that you all obviously think I would immediately perish without a strong…” She glanced in the direction of the younger men. “...very strong male presence there to protect me, I will gladly accept your offer.”

After a moment of consideration, she added. “For now! The first moment I feel that something is off, I will leave. If I even suspect you have told anyone that I am with you...I don’t know what I will do but it will be bad.” Though whether it would be bad for them or for her, she didn’t know. She was caught somewhere between breaking into tears and screaming and the amount of effort it took to hold back both left her trembling. “S-so let's avoid that, okay?”

She bit her lip and then gave him a hopeful look. "Will...will you really feed me?"
 
Whether it was a ploy to garner her interest enough to have her accompany them, Papa wasn't certain, but his son's striptease had an effect. The young woman became lost in the visage of Rupert's pectorals and it wouldn't have surprised him if she'd started to drool. He almost felt guilty for the bark that forced a halt to Rupert's performance.

As Rupert huffed and walked off, he didn't witness the proud smile that curled up Papa's lips. The genetically blessed apple hadn't fallen far from the tree.

By the time the woman regained her senses and took her eyes off his half-naked son's broad back, Papa had closed in. He peered at her with soft brown eyes, realising when he mentioned his wife, why he cared so much about having the girl return to the cottage.

Not only because they missed the laughter of a woman, but because of the dearth of nubile girls in the Bear's territory. Teddy and Rupert were of an age where female companionship was of paramount importance, and if they couldn't find it close to home, he risked them leaving. The boys were Papa's world, and he'd do anything to keep them close.

That sex lurked at the forefront of their minds, he knew with certainty. One night, when they thought him asleep, he'd overheard the boys whispering about paying a visit to the redheaded teenage trollop who serviced the fisherman at the docks. Ariel, she called herself; dressed up as a mermaid.

Now an attractive woman had popped up from nowhere. The answer to his prayers.

Seconds after he'd left her with a decision to make, twigs snapped behind him. Wearing Rupert's boots and 'eeping' the girl sounded like an earthquake, yet Papa didn't stop until she ran into his back. When she did, he pirouetted to look at her.

Lips pursed, he tilted his head and listened to the words tumbling from her mouth. Papa didn't interrupt and refrained from smiling at the enthusiastic manner in which she defended her capabilities. When she ran out of breath, he held out his hands in a gesture of conciliation. "Oh, I know that you can handle yourself. You wouldn't have made it this far or evaded capture if you weren't intelligent, independent and cunning. You also wouldn't have dared enter our house if you weren't brave, but."

Papa tapped his noggin. "Would you have followed me if I'd said there was naught to worry about; that it'd all be rainbows and skittles? I doubt it, and although these woods have seen no ogres, trolls or Big Bad Wolf's for two centuries, I am certain that whoever is on your tail will eventually find you. When that happens, you'll be safer in our cottage than out in the open. That fact is inescapable."

Again having demonstrated the ability of males to multi-task by talking and walking at the same time, Papa halted in front of her. "If we wanted to harm you, we'd have thrown you over a shoulder and carried you to our cottage, kicking and screaming, by now. If we weren't concerned about your welfare, you wouldn't be wearing those shoes or that warm shirt. However, I understand you need to remain wary, and I've no doubt you'll exact bad, bad revenge if I betray your trust. To make that easier."

Without hesitation, Papa reached into his tunic and withdrew a leather scabbard. From that, he pulled a hunting knife with an eight-inch blade. Serrated metal teeth, sharp enough to slice through flesh with ease, gleamed as he proffered it to her, handle first. "Take this and use it if I break my word."

"Papa. She is coming with us?" Out of the trees raced Edward, beaming with delight.

"I knew it." Topless and skin gleaming with perspiration, Rupert appeared.

Once out of sight, Papa had expected no less than for his boys to stop and eavesdrop.

"She can have my bed." Teddy glared at his brother's muscled torso, then met Paddington with a pleading expression.

"We'll discuss sleeping arrangements when we get home, son."

Ignoring him, Teddy addressed the girl. "Of course, we'll feed you. We got a pig, potatoes, home-baked bread and you can help me pick whatever else you want from the vegetable garden."

Watching the exchange with amusement, Papa folded his arms over his chest.

"I'll start the fire." Teddy scampered off through the forest, leaving the girl with Paddington and Rupert.

"I guess my shoes weren't of much use." The latter glanced at her feet, then bent to one knee and extended his arms, "Climb on my back and I'll carry you home."

Despite an awareness of the intent driving it, Paddington still almost fell over at his son's display of gallantry. "Go ahead," he nodded at her. "I'm Paddington, this is my eldest, Rupert, and the other is Edward. What's your name, if I may ask? I can't forever keep on calling you Miss of the Golden Locks."

"Come on." Rupert patted his rump.

"Over dinner, you can tell us your tale and we'll figure out what to do and how to help. I'm also curious to hear what compelled you to try three bowls of porridge, three chairs and three beds. Were some not up to your particular standards? I'm sorry; if you'd have advised of your burglary in advance, we'd have better catered to your tastes."

Papa teased her now.
 
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Any lingering anger she may have had with the large man left her when he agreed that she wasn't useless. She had been worried that she would have to play along with the whole helpless damsel thing until she could figure out her next course of action. She had learned from her time in the village that, once a man got it in his head that females were nothing but baby making servants meant only for fucking, rearing children and keeping house, it was pretty hard to break them of that notion.

What he said made sense, she supposed. She might have been hesitant to come with them if they had used a different tactic. Although, her deciding factor had definitely been the mention of food so, maybe not. She would probably have come back to the cabin with them if they had just offered her stale bread and moldy cheese. Mentioning a magnificent feast was enough of an incentive that she was still salivating at the thought. It was actually kind of terrifying, if she thought too hard about it, exactly how much she would do for a decent meal at this point. Terrifying because she had let herself get to this level of desperation. How much worse would it have gotten if she hadn't found their cottage?

At the mention of the shoes and the warm shirt, Goldie subconsciously hugged some of the excess fabric to herself, as if bringing it to their attention that she still had it would make them take it away from her. The shoes...well, they were a nice gesture but it really wouldn't make a difference either way if she lost them. The shirt could make a very big difference in the likelihood of her survival. Would they take the clothes from her if she decided not to come with them? Would they take them from her if she left later down the road? What about her other things that she had left at the cottage? Would they take those things, such that they were, away from her too? She didn't know if she had the strength to start over without anything.

Her sudden fear rose several notches when he pulled out the hunting knife and her still stiff muscles tensed as she froze. She would never be able to outrun him! Why had he waited so long to kill her? Was this some sort of game? He needed her to trust him first, to consciously decide to take his help before...what? Teach her a lesson about trusting strang...

She let out a shaky exhale when he flipped the blade over and held it out to her hilt first. Stars and sprites! She had thought it was over. Even as she reached out to take the weapon with trembling fingers, she began to rethink her decision to go with them. A few minutes ago, she had been okay with the idea that she was probably going to die regardless of her choice to follow them or not. Now...

She leapt about a foot into the air when one of the sons came barging through the trees and clutched the blade to her chest. Yes, she could definitely take care of herself. The perfect reaction to an unknown threat barreling toward her was obviously to bring the pointy object closer to her like a bloody shield instead of a weapon. Brilliant. She was going to die. How she wasn't dead already was a complete mystery to her.

"I..." She attempted a protest when they started talking about the sleeping arrangements, the topless one having joined them while she was having her mini panic attack, but it was useless. The younger of the two sons was very enthusiastic about...well, everything as far as she could tell, and talking over him seemed like a lost cause. Plus they were talking about food again and the indecision about staying or going was actually physically painful. She was so hungry but she was afraid now and she wasn't sure food was worth being tortured and chopped into pieces.

In the end, it was Rupert's offer to carry her that made her decision, though she was still a little hesitant. She eyed Paddington for a long moment, trying to assess if he really was a threat or if she had just overreacted. He had given her a means to defend herself and he had been smiling and friendly the whole time he had been talking to her. What he said about them just throwing her over their shoulders and dragging her back to the cabin to do Gods know what was certainly something to keep in mind. She had thought it several times herself since she had been caught in their home.

She looked at the waiting naked back and then up at Rupert's hopeful face. Oh fine! She was being silly. Again.

She offered him a smile and climbed on, carefully wrapping her arms around his neck so as not to choke him or stab him. "Thank you." She said honestly in his ear.

"My name is actually Gilda Locks so Miss of the Golden Locks is close enough." She gave a small forced laugh after she was settled. "Everyone calls me Goldilocks or Goldie."

At Paddington's tease, she laughed for real and shook her head. "Of course. Next time I will send smoke signals or bang some drums to communicate my meal. Perhaps I shall send a raven ahead with a coded letter like "Winter is Coming " or something to ensure that the meal is hot and a fire is going as well." She laughed again before sighing and resting her head between Rupert's shoulder blades. He smelled nice. And he was warm. And oddly...soft....and...her eyes drifted closed before they had even gone three paces.
 
Paddington noticed the girl relax somewhat after his assurance that he didn't consider her weak or useless. She'd already proved capable by making it this far without her fiance's posses finding her. That he'd come looking, Papa possessed no doubt, for a man who'd force a young woman into betrothal was not a man who'd accept rejection.

Clearly, the girl remained fearful of Paddington and his motives, and he couldn't blame her. Even the hulking Papa Bear would display wariness on encountering three creatures who dwarfed him in size and could rip his limbs off with their bare hands. Which made his action of pulling a hunting knife from his scabbard at the exact moment Rupert and Edward rushed from their hiding places even more stupid.

What the fuck was he thinking?

He regretted the decision immediately, but that was too late. She'd removed it from his grasp and he watched in slow motion her turn towards his youngest, the point of the blade on a collision course with his vulnerable stomach. It would tear right through his flesh and gut Teddy like a fish. A silent scream escaped Paddington's mouth, and a vision invaded his mind of Edward flopping around on the ground, groaning in agony and hand clasped to the bleeding hole in his torso, trying to push his entrails back in. Papa's massive paws covered his eyes.

Seconds later on hearing Edwards voice; sounding perfectly healthy; he peeked between his fingers. The boy stood next to Goldie, rattling on about a fire and waving his arms.

As suddenly as he'd appeared, he disappeared. Papa had never witnessed the boy so eager to undertake chores before in his life.

"Come, get on.

Bearings recovered, Bear shifted his gaze to his eldest. The visage of Rupert, naked back presented to the girl, on his knees and patting his rump elicited a smile. Paddington was certain the ride he offered her wasn't the only kind he had in mind. As she consented, Papa teased her with his comments, hoping she hadn't noticed his brief loss of composure.

"Goldie, I like that. It suits you." Rupert's admired the girl's pretty face and mane of golden hair before she clambered onto his back.

Her response to his jocular comments evoked a laugh from Paddington. It emanated deep in his chest and erupted from his mouth, the deep booming sound causing the birds in the trees to twitter and scatter through the canopy. "Smoke signals and ravens; you're a cheeky one, aren't you?" Papa winked as Rupert moved to his feet. Before they'd taken three steps, she'd fallen asleep.

Father and son walked in companionable silence, communicating through exchanged nods, smiles and body language. Rupert trod lightly, careful to avoid stumbling over tree roots or from falling down rabbit-holes so as not to wake Goldie, who slept peacefully on his back.

Black smoke spiralled from the cottage chimney, visible when they arrived at the summit overlooking the Bear's abode.

The front door was open and after they entered, Rupert glanced at the three chairs their visitor had tried out earlier. Unsure which one she'd found to her liking, he hesitated and tossed a shrug at Paddington.

"I don't know either," his Father whispered, "Try mine." The largest of the three seats, it also contained the fluffiest cushions.

While Rupert lowered her into her it, Edward scurried from the kitchen. He stopped by the door and stared at their visitor. "I started the fire and peeled the vegetables. Anything else you want me to do, Papa?"

Rupert turned and rolled his eyes at his brother.

Edward responded with a raised middle finger.

"Wake up Sleeping Beauty," Paddington ignored them, nudged his eldest aside and knelt by the chair at eye level with Goldie. "I'll have Rupert and Teddy give you a tour, while I toss the hog on the spit and heat water for your bath." Lightness in his tone, he tapped her leg. "Just promise to not break anything this time. There's only so much furniture to go around, and destroying it is my boy's job."
 
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