She painted on the Root Beer Lip Smackers lip gloss that Shari had bought her last Christmas and rouged her cheeks as she had long ago as she once had for Sebastian. "It's all up, master," groaned Ben, "nothin' short of a merracle can save us. " "We won't trust you, my youngster," answered the janizary. "Let us fly from this frightful place.
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