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“Faster, Cretin!” screamed Rabbit.
“I didn’t pay 80 quadroons to that buffoon, Marcus, just to get a worthless mule like you that can’t even go a farthing through the Zelhab Sands!”

Squiggles, the albino iguana, panted and squirmed.
“Oh dear, if only I wasn’t so far from home, if only I wasn’t so weak and small,” he thought.

“Worm, I shall flay your carcass if you do not move faster!” Yelled Rabbit, his rage becoming more and more self-consuming. He had become obsessed with power and self-image, spending hours each day cultivating himself before the mirror.

“This inheritance shall be your undoing,” his sister had warned him, “you are not honoring the wishes of Father.”

“To hell with ye and ye three tongued-banshee of a scarecrow that ye calleth that cow,” replied Rabbit.

And with that, he rode off into the triple sunset on his brand new iguana.

“Iguana,” spoke Rabbit calmly, regaining his composure upon feeling the shame of this memory, “it is not that I do not respect you, but it is paramount that we fill this cup in which I sit of the finest sake in these lands.”

“Yes my lord,” spoke Iguana, “and for that reason, I am taking you the shortest path to The White Well, of which the clearest and surest Junmai Ginjo is said to flow,” he lied.
“Yes, I am thankful for that..” said Rabbit, knowing full well what really lay ahead.

There would be blood spilt tonight.

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