Prank Gone Wrong

Sulit

A/N: Okay, this story might actually be a bit more mature than what I usually write. And I know little to none about certain topics that this story will mention. But NO, there will be no explicit or lemon scenes. The furthest I'll go is just heavy kissing scenes for a strong rated T and mentions of adult themes. Sorry, but that's not my thing.

Anyway, let's get on with the story, but let me warn you right now. It does get a little bit steamy here. And action!

Chapter 1

Prank Gone Wrong

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Poppy?" Biggie asked the pink princess as he and Cooper carefully positioned a huge vat of dark red berry mead over a certain Fear Bunker.

Eighteen-year-old Princess Poppy just nodded, having a dastardly mischievous little grin on her face and rubbing her hands together eagerly.

"Oh, absolutely." She said, the smirk not leaving her face. "Besides, it is Prank Day. And Branch can learn to live a little."

"That's true." Guy Diamond slowly said with a hesitant shrug of his shoulders, lightly playing with his fingers.

But still, the silver glitter Troll and the rest of their friends think that this prank might be taking it too far; especially if Branch, the only gray Troll in society, and the village grump, was the intended victim. There was much at stake if it goes wrong, and Branch definitely would not be happy that he was pranked. The guy never liked having fun, and he always ruins fun for everyone else.

Yet Poppy was always insistent that he deserves a chance to be happy. She would go out of her way to try and talk to him, which he would brush off. She would invite him to almost every single party, which he would either decline, throw away the invitation, or worst of all, smash it under his foot. But despite all of what he would do to push her away, Poppy remained hopeful that one day, Branch would come around and join in on the perpetual fun.

She went up to the large boulder that showed where the entrance was marked and then knocked a little catchy rhythm on it a few times.

"Bra-anch!" She called out in a sing-song voice. "Are you in there?"

There was no answer, so she knocked again. "Branch?" She asked.

Still no response. Feeling frustrated that her prank wasn't going according to plan, she began knocking insistently.

"Branch, Branch, Branch, Branch, Branch, Branch. Branch, open up!"

Finally, there was a sliding sound as the peephole from the mat that said, "Go Away" opened up to reveal angry but drowsy sky blue eyes.

"What do you want, Poppy?" Branch asked her, his voice low and growly. "It's the middle of the night!"

Poppy leaned down towards the mat. "I just want to talk to you for a second." She said to him. "Can you please come out?"

She could see his brows furrowed in suspicion. "I know what today is." He said. "You better not have planned something that will ensure my wrath."

A nervous sweat began to build up on her neck. "Uh, nope!" She said a little quickly and cheerfully. Branch's eyes narrowed further, not believing it one bit. "Well, I really do need to talk to you, so just come on out."

"Can't you tell me what it is out there?" Branch asked.

"No, I would prefer it face to face." Poppy replied with ease, slightly crossing her fingers behind her back. She should've known that Branch would suspect something if she is out at his bunker so late, especially on Prank Day. She just hoped that he would let his guard down this once.

After a long period of silence, Branch finally huffed in annoyance. "Hang on." He groaned.

He closed the peephole, and then seconds later, the entire mat opened up, and the platform rose up to the very top, revealing a twenty-one-year-old Branch dressed in a mossy green robe.

"What do you want?" He asked, crossing his arms against his chest.

Poppy then took a couple of steps forward, getting closer to him. "I just want you to tell me what you think of this prank." She said.

Before Branch could ask her what she was talking about, Biggie, Cooper and Guy knocked over the large vat of berry mead, drenching him, and by accident Poppy, to the skin. Branch sputtered and coughed as he instinctively grabbed Poppy's arm to try and steady himself, but Poppy blindy tripped over her feet and fell forward into him, making both of them accidentally knock down the lever. The platform immediately retracted down with the two mead-drenched Trolls and the mat closed automatically, locking them inside and the others and the remaining drops of berry mead dripping from the vat out.

"Uh, was that supposed to happen?" Cooper asked, breaking the stunned silence. But no one answered him, too shocked and worried to utter a word.

They wanted to head down there and get Poppy out, but they knew that the entire bunker was allegedly Bergen-proof, according to grouchy Branch. So if not even a Bergen could supposedly get in, then there was no way that any of them could get inside without somehow alerting their presence to the gray survivalist Troll. They all knew that Branch was going to be really steamed.

*********************

Poppy felt like her brain and lungs were on fire as she coughed out a few times. She knew that she must've swallowed a few too many gulps of mead during that little freefall. Her drenched dress felt like it was clinging to her skin, and the overall scent of the sweet berry mead overcame her nostrils. It was going to take forever to shower and get the smell out.

There was a deeper, more hearty coughing sound next to her. "Are you crazy, Poppy?!" Branch exclaimed, coughing a few more times. "That was literally the dumbest thing you can think of! You can get someone seriously drunk or worse, get someone killed because of alcohol poisoning!"

Poppy carefully sat herself up as she turned to look over at, what she was sure was, a really angry Branch. And he was seriously ticked off, but that was not what caught her attention.

Branch was trying to wring out his coal black hair from any excess mead, and drops of the alcoholic liquid ran down his face in rivulets, drawing her eyes down to his neck and now somewhat exposed shoulders as the soaked mossy robe began to slide off them. The broad, curved shape of them suddenly looked so firm and strong. Some dark red drops even dripped down the tips of his pointed ears, the little points somewhat looking a pale aqua color instead of gray.

For some reason, her eyes focused on one little drop that went down his pale grayish-lavender nose and then slowly slid onto his lips, entering his mouth. Unconsciously, the pink Troll slowly and lightly licked her own lips, which she could taste drops of the berry mead on her own mouth. But something was beginning to stir and bubble up inside of her; something that was hot and bothersome, oddly wanting to not just taste the mead.

Finally, Branch managed to get all of the excess mead out of his hair, and he unwounded it, reverting it back to its usual shape, although there were some strands that were out of place like cowlicks. He groaned in annoyance as he looked down at his soaked moss green robe, placing a hand on his forehead. He had a feeling that within minutes, all the alcohol that he accidentally consumed will start to make his brain go all fuzzy and hazy. He had to be prepared and make sure that nothing crazy happened.

He then looked over at Poppy, who was strangely staring at him like some kind of curious animal, her head tilted a little to the side. Suddenly, he felt hyper-aware of her dilating gaze, which was remaining glued to his face, and then her eyes began to slowly trail downward towards his body, causing his blood to pump fast and hot. A traitorous light lavender blush appeared on his cheeks.

Well, he wasn't going to kick Poppy out now when there was a high chance that due to the amount of alcohol she must've consumed as well, she was going to become pretty drunk out of her mind soon and then wander off to who-knows-where and ending up doing something really stupid that will torment her for the rest of her life. He then sighed heavily, knowing fully well that he was going to regret this.

"Come on." He said. "I'll take the couch, and you can take my room."

Poppy felt her head getting fuzzier and fuzzier as she looked up at Branch, who held out a hand to her. She took it and took surprisingly great notice at how much larger it was compared to her own, and that his palm felt oddly.... warm; comforting even. Once she was back up on her feet, she immediately tripped over them and almost fell forward, right into Branch.

He immediately steadied her before she would accidentally bring both of them down to the ground, his hands grabbing onto her waist. One of her hands instinctively grabbed onto his shoulder, while the other one was placed on a piece of exposed chest from under his robe, which must've loosen a little from when he was coughing earlier. The skin that she felt there was taut and super warm.

Poppy's eyes immediately flitted over to where her hand was resting, and she was surprised to see the toned muscles underneath her palm, feeling strong and firm. There was also a strange temptation to look further down the expanse of strong chest to look down at his hips, but the rosy, red-hot blush that she felt appearing on her face stopped her. She suddenly felt the sheer magnetism pulling her in as she forced herself to look up into his eyes, and then, it was as if all she could see was blue.

How did she never notice it before? Well, she had, ever since she first met him, but had his eyes always been that blue? They looked like the sky itself, and right now, they were almost shimmering against his ashy gray skin tone in the dim lighting of his underground bunker, his cheeks dappled with a pale lavender hue. Was he.... blushing? As well? Was he feeling.... what she was feeling?

All her life, she was told that gray Trolls, they never feel anything more than sadness, anger and unhappiness; they could only feel negative emotions. Not that she really ever believed it anyway. But then, why did she feel like his heart was pounding fast as well, from what she could tell by her hand placed on his chest? What was this feeling anyway?

Branch knew that he had to get away from this situation right away. The dilated gaze from Poppy meant that the alcohol from the berry mead was overtaking her mind and senses much faster than he had originally thought. He had once thought that it would take longer because he had seen her sometimes attend, or even host, a more mature party than usual, and sometimes, there would be drinking contests there, much to his chagrin.

But then he remembered that the berry mead that was poured down on them was much stronger than the normal berry wine that would be served at those kinds of parties. Maybe that's why the effects are happening much faster than normal. And who knows how many shots they accidentally swallowed all at once during that alcoholic downpour?

But whatever the case might be, he still had to try and take control of the situation and make doubly sure that neither of them will be tempted to do something that they'll regret for the rest of their lives, regardless of the effects of the alcohol.

He took a step backward to try and gently remove himself from Poppy's grip, but she only tightened it and followed him closer and closer until he was sure that they were only inches apart, their mead-soaked bodies almost pressing together. The incessant buzzing in his skull was really starting to bug him, and it was making it much harder for him to even think straight.

He reached a shaky hand upward and then placed it on Poppy's wrist to try and gently take off the hand that was still touching his bare chest. But when he did that, her other hand that was on his shoulder reached up to gently brush her fingers against his jawline, and his eyes widened in shock at the curious contact; blood pumping wildly, head pounding even harder, and heat beginning to envelope him completely from head to toe as she slowly joined her captive hand with its captor, their fingers intimately entwining together.

Was it just Poppy's imagination, or did his eyes start to look bluer the more he stared at her? Her free hand gently cradled his chin, feeling how strong it was. Had Branch always been this handsome? Oh, who was she kidding? She had always known that Branch was actually quite attractive despite his monotonous colors, but she didn't think too much of it due to other things; mainly her royal duties so that she could be ready when she takes the throne, and a purple Zen Troll that she was meant to be pursuing. But right then, at that moment, it was like him and her were the only living things in existence, and the pink Troll princess was feeling the immense desire course hotly and wildly through her veins the more she stared at the handsome gray Troll survivalist.

She removed her thumb from where it was resting on his jaw and then gently brushed it against his bottom lip. She heard the quiet hitch of his hot breath when her senses became overflooded with the smooth, velvety texture underneath her thumb. Heat continued to overwhelm her mind and body and her eyes were slowly turning hazy as the alcohol of the mead took full control of her brain.

From that moment on, all she could see was the very handsome Troll standing in front of her with wide eyes, like he was some kind of jittery creature, afraid of what was coming next. All she could feel was a warm velvet-like surface under her thumb; and gentle, soft fingers around her other hand that had slight calluses on them due to the hard labor they've endured for so long. And all she wanted was him: the only Troll who dared to drive her crazy with his odd and negative antics, who could care less about her royal status and who is annoyingly honest, blunt and straight to the point; and yet, she still keeps coming back to try and get through to him.

Throwing away any sense of logic or reason like dandelion puffs in a breeze, her clouded mind having some form of resolve, she firmly took Branch's face in both of her hands and then crashed her lips onto his. Right away, she could taste the leftover berry mead that was still staining his mouth, but the fire that was burning her from the inside out was only growing more and more as she tried to pull him closer and closer to her.

Branch was board-stiff when the drunken princess suddenly smashed her mouth over his. Her lips were incredibly soft, and he could taste the berry mead on them as well. But he wasn't sure what to think about it. He had to get her to stop this before both of them end up doing something stupid.

But, this could be the only chance he might have to show Poppy how much he cared for her. The pink Troll had wormed her way into his heart against his better judgement, and no matter how many times he had feebly tried to push her away, she just came right on back. She seemed to be the only one who actually cared about him.

But what could he offer her? He was just the paranoid village grump, the only gray Troll in the entire kingdom, and nothing else. She was everything sunny and happy and good in the world, while he was the depression and poison that threatened to destroy it.

His brain was beginning to hurt and throb from his intense thinking; the heavy amounts of alcohol-spiked berry juice that he had accidentally consumed earlier not really helping the situation much, and Poppy still hadn't removed herself from the liplock that they were in. Can he take that chance? No.... he shouldn't. It's not fair to either of them. Poppy deserves someone much better than him; even if that meant losing her to that fake Zen, Creek, forever. And there was just no way he could even dare to hope that someone as wonderful as her could ever love someone as miserable as him.

Poppy pulled him flush against her body, holding him tight against her. Branch still didn't dare touch her with his hands, but his mind was getting more and more hazy, his senses overflowing with the taste of berry mead on his mouth; the scent of strawberries, cotton candy and alcohol overwhelming his nose, and the feeling of soft, heated and slightly damp skin against his. He could feel his conscience rapidly slipping away by the second, and any sense of reason that was remaining in him was scrambling to pull it together before it too was consumed by fire.

Finally, Poppy slowly pulled away while gently nibbling on his lower lip. Her pink eyes were clouded and dilated, she was panting heavily in the thick silence between them, and her lips looked swollen and more pinkish than the rest of her skin. The sight of her looking at him like that ended him. All logic and reason was swallowed up by the heated pressure building up in his abdomen and was coursing furiously through his blood. He just blindly and drunkenly threw all caution to the wind, surrendering to the foggy haze and then throwing himself into the flames.

Branch grabbed her hips and then roughly pulled her back towards him, his lips wildly claiming hers. He heard her moan in pleasure, which only continued to add more fire that was rapidly engulfing his mind and body. Her hands that were touching his cheeks before immediately wound behind his neck and then into his hair, lightly digging into it, her fingers brushing against his scalp.

Poppy couldn't believe it. Branch was actually kissing her back, and oh trolly moley, he was a fantastic kisser. And his hands. She was almost quivering under his heated touch as his fingers took better hold of her hips, slightly digging them into her waist while also rubbing soothing little circles that felt so wonderfully amazing. She moaned out again as she dug her fingers deeper into his coal black hair and then slowly licked the outline of his lips, making him moan as well. She took that opportunity to lightly press her tongue against his lips, tentatively asking for entrance, and then slipped it inside when he granted it. She could still taste the strong berry mead that had now seeped into his skin, but now, she could also taste the slight sweet tanginess of blueberries, along with the faintest hint of chocolate. This new taste was way too addicting, and she wanted more. More.

She felt him take a small step backward, and she instinctively followed him. Then he took another step, then another, then another, their steps in perfect sync. They parted lips for a second to actually breathe, before returning to the passionate liplock, tongues battling for dominance. Finally, they stopped when his back had hit something. A wall, perhaps? With a low growl, he spun her around and her back hit the surface. He pressed up against her, eagerly swallowing a moan that was coming from her throat.

Hot. Burning. Hot. Sizzling. It was starting to get very warm in the underground area despite how cool it actually was compared to the surface, and she could feel tiny drops of sweat beginning to form along her forehead. Her hands slowly trailed down from his neck to his biceps and she squeezed them, wanting to feel the hot and firm muscle under the wet mossy robe. She fought back a frown when she couldn't get a good feel of them.

Her elbow then hit something. For some reason, despite the alcohol, her hazy mind knew exactly what it was. A doorknob.

She wrapped one arm back around his neck as they parted their lips to take another quick breather from their kissing session, then she grabbed the knob with her free hand and turned it right when their lips connected again. The door behind her became unlocked as he slid his hands under her legs, and she slightly jumped up to hook them around his waist, her free arm joining the other one around his neck. He carried her inside the room, and then placed her feet back on the ground.

By now, the two of them were kissing wildly as the male Troll kicked the door closed behind them with his foot. He then took a small step forward, making the female take a step backward in tandem. She could clearly still smell the mead on his body that was mixing in with the sweat beginning to form on his skin, and it was actually such a pleasant and enticing scent to her.

He then pulled her flush against him, making her moan in pleasure again at being pressed up against his strong form. She slowly slid her hands up his arms back to his shoulders, feeling the heated frustration starting to build up inside her because she couldn't still feel his skin. She then slid them down to the little slice of hardened chest that was hidden underneath his soaked mossy robe. She knew that he wasn't exactly a bodybuilder, but she knew that he was quite strong, due to him building his bunker all on his own.

The muscles that she felt there were naturally sculpted and strong, the natural heat of them burning through her palms. She then slowly trailed her hands downward, feeling every curve and crevice, towards the twine belt of the mossy green robe. She tugged at it, slightly loosening it little by little. Once it was completely untied from around his waist, she roughly pushed the robe off his shoulders, finally able to touch the naked skin there and his firm biceps.

While she was exploring his chest and arms, his hands slowly trailed down to the hem of her mead-soaked dress just as her legs hit the edge of something solid. He carefully laid her down on top of a cottony soft plush surface as she finally pushed the wet robe off his body entirely and he began to lift up the edge of her dress. After that, everything dissipated into a world of intense heat, sweaty skin, moans and entangled limbs, eventually fading into black.

************************

Poppy felt like a Caterbus had hit her, her brain feeling all fuzzy and heavy. She lightly groaned as she blinked to regain her bearings. Where was she? She blinked again and looked up. All she saw above her was rich brown earth.

Wait a minute. Earth? She was underground? Horror crept in, making her freeze completely. There was only one place in the entire world that she knew that was underground.

Poppy briefly looked down at herself, seeing that she was in a large bed with brown wool sheets. She slowly peeled off a corner of it and saw that other than the blanket, there was nothing else covering her. A bright red blush appeared on her face when she realized something. She must've had.... But then again, maybe he tried to stop her. Maybe he did. He had to.

But then, her blush increased and her blood ran cold when she heard gentle breathing coming next to her, along with soft little snores. She didn't dare look, but a little bit of curiosity urged her to take a little peek. So she did.

Branch was sound asleep next to her, his face visibly relaxed and his bare, strong chest in her full view, which was partially covered by the wool blanket that was tangled around his legs, which thankfully hid his lower half. Poppy took the moment to actually notice that he looked quite handsome with his face relaxed and calm, no annoyed scowl on it; and she didn't need the effects of alcohol to get her to see that. The look of contentment on his face was so enticing that Poppy slowly reached out and lightly brushed his jaw with her fingertips.

But then, Branch twitched in his sleep, the relaxed look on his face slightly pinched as he was slowly pulled away from the world of sleep. Poppy immediately retracted her hand and then looked away, pretending to still be asleep. But the Troll lying next to her already blinked open his sleepy blue eyes and saw her gawking at him in surprise.

A fierce lavender blush immediately coated his cheeks when he saw Poppy instinctively pull the blanket upwards to hide more of her slightly exposed chest. It only grew darker as he slowly slid his hand down his side from underneath the thick wool comforter and felt nothing but his own skin. In a quick whirl, he turned away from her, fully awake, the blanket thrown off him as he immediately sat up, and then rapidly hid himself under his coal-black hair.

Poppy knew that he was feeling mortified. But she had a feeling that he had tried to stop this last night, but apparently, it was to no avail. She opened her mouth to speak, a gentle hand reaching out for him, but immediately retracted it when she was cut off by Branch.

"Get out." He said lowly, trying to hold back a barely audible lump in his throat, feeling very much ashamed at the conclusion of what had happened the night before.

Poppy blinked at him, slightly loosening her tight hold on the blanket. Regardless of the situation they were in, she had to try and comfort him. "Branch, I-"

"Get out, Poppy!" Branch shouted angrily, making her slightly jump at his harsh tone.

But she could still hear the shame that was very much evident in his voice and in his rigid posture before he hid himself away in his hair. She lightly bit her lip, quickly understanding that this was not a good time to try and get him to talk about it, especially when he was feeling like this.

Him acting paranoid, she could easily handle. Angry, that was a little bit tougher, but it was still tolerable enough. But ashamed, that was a whole new territory for her; something very unfamiliar.

Without saying another word, Poppy slowly slid out of the bed, trying to hide as much of herself as best as she could from behind her hair. Not that Branch would even dare to try and peek. With cautious strands of her hair, she picked up her now dried off dress, undergarments, hair tie and headband that all had been thrown off and disregarded on the floor the night before. Branch's robe and boxers were lying near them.

She silently slipped all of her clothes back on, still smelling the faint sweetness of the berry mead that had been soaked in the fabric. Looks like she has some laundry to do when she gets back to her pod.

But this wasn't how she had seen the prank happening last night. She had pictured a very drenched and very furious Branch glaring at her and possibly him throwing a few choice words at her before he would quickly retreat back into his bunker. Maybe she shouldn't have done it. But all she wanted was to show the village grump that it was okay to have fun once in a while. However, she had taken it way too far.

Now, because of her and her poor choice, both she and Branch are left dealing with the consequences. They had just crossed a serious line, and there was no turning back from it. Now their odd little relationship would never be the same again. Poppy had considered him her friend, even if he was a little bit rude and pessimistic towards pretty much everything. And it seemed like he was beginning to at least tolerate her being near him. But now, after all of that had happened the night before, it seemed like they were back to square one.

As she turned around to leave the room and see herself out of the bunker, she stole one last glance over at Branch. He was still hiding inside of his hair, with no intent on showing himself anytime soon. Poppy lightly bit her lip again and tried her best to not cry. That would only make the situation worse. But she had to say something before she left.

"I'm sorry." She simply said to him, almost choking on the lump in her throat, feeling sympathetic towards him, while at the same time, feeling like complete trash. Some friend she was to him.

She waited for about five seconds for any kind of response from him, but he still didn't move or say anything from under his hair. Then, she slowly and silently left the room, closing the door behind her.

After hearing the sound of her footsteps beginning to recede, Branch still hid under his hair as he waited for the sound of the elevator to start, indicating that she was heading back up to the surface. Once he had heard the heavy mechanical whirring of the platform slowly going upward, and getting softer as it ascended, the gray Troll slowly retracted his hair back into its normal shape, showing that his arms were crossed tightly against his bare chest.

He then slowly brought his knees up to his upper body, slightly hugging them as he used his hair to pick up his underwear and dried-off robe from the floor and then bring them closer to him. He could still smell the cursed sweet scent of the mead that was soaked into the mossy fabric.

He only managed to put back on his now-dry boxers before he buried his face in his hands as he fell back onto his bed with a heavy plop and a shaky and breathy noise coming from his throat, sounding between a sigh and a sob. He then slowly turned over onto his side, away from looking at the bedroom door, looking very much ashamed as he silently pulled the blanket back over his body.

Poppy had finally reached the top floor of the bunker after fifteen long seconds of torturous silence, and then cautiously opened up the hidden trap door that was under the unwelcome welcome mat. She then slowly pulled herself up to the surface and then carefully closed the trapdoor behind her. When she felt the early rays of the sun hit her small form, it suddenly felt her limbs were much heavier; almost trembling like crazy as she forced herself to stand up.

There was no way that she was ever going to tell her friends about what had happened, without some form of either teasing and/or shock coming from them. Mostly shock, she was sure of that. There may also be some inappropriate comments thrown in that conversation, and that would be extreme torture for Poppy, and she could bet that she would want the Earth to swallow her up so that she could get away from that very uncomfortable dilemma. Plus, some of them weren't exactly known to keep secrets very well, so it would have only been a matter of time before the entire village knew about it and sent a mob to torment poor Branch even further.

She had briefly considered at least telling her dad about it since she could talk to him about pretty much anything, but she was afraid that he would be utterly furious with her for getting both her and Branch into that situation because of her stupid idea. And seeing her father angry was not a pretty picture; although it was rare, but that wasn't an option either. Plus, he would most likely be extremely angry with Branch for plucking his daughter's flower. He might even banish him from the village and then ground her for an entire year for doing a stunt like that that resulted in them getting drunk, which led them to getting into that situation. So that was also a definite no.

As Poppy began to slowly trudge along the worn-out path back towards the village, hoping that no one will see or hear her, Branch was still lying on his bed in his underground bunker, pulling his legs up to his chest as he pulled the blanket over himself entirely, wanting to vanish into thin air, feeling very much mortified. Both of them were thinking the same thing as a lone tear of shame slowly slid down Branch's cheek, and outside, Poppy closed her eyes in shame while hugging her arms, trying to hold back the hot tears that were building up in her throat.

What have I done?

A/N: Yeah. That happened. That's pretty much all I can say about this chapter.

I'll admit it, I was listening to Sofia Karlberg's cover of "Crazy in Love" while writing those somewhat steamy scenes to kind of feel and understand the vibe. It is pretty sensual than the original song, which if I'm being honest, I'm not too sold on it. But geez, it can stay in your brain after listening to it a few times.

Well, I do have a couple of more chapters written out already, but I'll give it a couple of days before uploading the next one, just so that people can see how the story is going. Like I said, this is not really my cup of tea when it comes to writing, but I'm trying to somewhat expand on it without being too graphic. I'll draw the line there, no questions asked.

Anyway, moving on from that, I'll see y'all in the next chapter! Please leave a comment, as non-crude as possible, about what you think, and remember to stay healthy! The worst is almost behind us.

Got to fly! ;)

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