Today is Wednesday, the 26th of December 2018. Second Christmas Holiday in some countries. Boxing Day in others.
Kylie is calling from North Carolina. She and llama KussKuss are still in their motel room in Charlotte, the largest city of North Carolina. After a grand Christmas meal consisting of roasted turkey and… well… nothing more than roasted turkey they were too tired and lazy and gorged to continue their travels. It was cold turkey, the llama shouts in the background. Eggnog, Kylie says, the llama had too much eggnog. Eggnog with Whisky. And white wine with the fishy turkey. And ugly Christmas sweaters.And no Christmas presents but terrible tales. And strange company of a weird old beared man in a red and white bathrobe. Hey, KussKuss says, having stolen Kylie's phone, he wasn't a weird old man, he was the owner of the motel in Charlotte and he was paid by you, Bromford Bibble, to tell them both these mixed up Scottish Folk and Fairy Tales. What do you say, Bromford Bibble? Hang up? Why should I hang …
Tuuuuut Tuuuuut Tuuuuut Tuuuuut Tuuuuut Tuuuuut Tuuuuut Tuuuuut Tuuuuut…
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