Search Results for 'luck'

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  • #2467
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      :yahoo_good_luck: :world: :yahoo_good_luck:

      Sadness, whilst not being entirely unheard of, was alot more uncommon during the days of the Gardenation. The weather was kindness itself, and everyone, naturally enough, was at liberty to grow whatever they wanted in their gardens. There were no rules and regulations in the Gardenation; it worked on a sort of expanded “pay forward” system, not that there was any pay, or forward thinking for that matter, involved. The genesis of the new collaberation of independant garden nations (although it was actually more of a renaissance, simultaneous time notwithstanding) had come about as a result of the widespread discontent of the populace with all of the political parties, in just about every nation on the planet.

      :news: :yahoo_at_wits_end: :news: :yahoo_not_listening: :news:

      During a particularly wild and raucous bridge tart birthday party (they were always having birthday parties; it was always somebody’s birthday somewhere, after all) the avant garde shift pioneers, as well as the twelve Wisp rats, came up with a plan ~ of sorts. It was more of an imaginative play really.

      :creating_magic: :buffoon: :yahoo_party: :buffoon: :creating_magic:

      One of the children had been bemoaning the fact that his friend in another nation could grow whatever he wanted in his garden, and he couldn’t, in his own nation. He asked the bridge tarts if they could create a new nation, from all the independant garden nations all over the world. The bridge tarts decided that it was a fine idea and set about bridging the independant garden nations all over the world together, in energy.

      :recycle:

      Some of the bridge tarts worked on the connecting links between the garden nations all over the globe, and some of the bridge tarts were instrumental in innovative new gardening ideas. One of them experimented with pulling funny faces at the seedlings, which resulted in bizarre comical blooms. New ideas bounced from one gardenation to another, originating you might say in all gardenations at the same time, so connected were they in energy.

      :yahoo_silly:

      Given sufficient motivation, the Gardenation might have started sooner ~ notwithstanding simultaneous time. Or perhaps they already did.

      :yahoo_smug:

      #2682

      In reply to: Strings of Nines

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        And good luck with making any sense off THAT! the evil Messmeerah hissed in a fitful and raucous laugh which made her blink and wink like mad.

        Turning to her shrine, she started to prepare the right tools for the job… a fine bloody ritual.
        Boy, did she loved carpaccio.

        #2658

        In reply to: Strings of Nines

        Messmeerah (Winky) Maymhe, High Priestess of the Pendulous and Loose Otherworldly Threading, was going for a bath into the Pool of Rejuvenation. Her ineffable beauty had started to show the early signs of time tampering —signs she’d learnt to notice as soon as they’d appear. Luckily, the moons were in perfect alignment for the rituals of Spring Beautusk*.

        News were good, very good indeed —which would certainly help in maintaining her perfect brow and forehead in pristine smoothness.
        News were so good that she’d sent her minion Minky fetch the boy just right after her white crow Saggin had came back with news of finding him… after all those years (not that years did matter to her anyway, she prided herself on that).

        It’d been close to an eternity, and she weighted her words… (in actuality it was a few teens and futile years at most) that she’d been trying to recover the boy, but the dwarfs had played her, and had managed to hide him from her sight.
        She had not thought he could be concealed by anyone powerful enough, and it was surely not by the magic of that headless Malvina and her pesky dragons. In fact, the boy had been concealed even after Malvina and her menagerie had left the boy and his caretaker. She was thinking the caretaker in question had a concealment charm far more powerful she thought could exist.

        But Minky would surely take care of that.

        • It should be said that one of the effects of the rituals of Spring Beautusk were a slight stiffness of the overall face (and other dipped body parts), which earnt Messmeerah the cute and albeit ironic sobriquet of Winky, as she hardly managed to blink and was often victim of bouts of winking when she tried too hard.
        #2381

        Almost unperturbed by the sudden distraction coming from the remarkably head-in-the-clouds Doily, despite her seemingly headlessness-lessness, and applying instead his famous adage, Better stick to one’s own nonsense than follow another’s Mewrich thundered “Well, if you don’t mind, I’ll explain about the beard, so that we can all get back to our business, and you out to your quest (and off my home)”.

        “Yes! Will you finally tell us about the bird, the notes, and all that buggery to get to that Eighth dimension and vanquish the darn blubbits invasion!” Pee Stoll almost cried out.

        Carefully, Mewrich reached out for a tiny peacock in his aviary, a poor thing which was plucking its feathers after all that noise, that he may as well have chosen at random from the menagerie.
        “Take this bird, and make it sing four notes, I said FOUR! not one more, not one less! in front of the great portal of Nibabuz and you should be able to get past the old Keeper… JUST DON’T try to interrupt me, by the coils of the great Snakipooh, you rude tart!” “You have to get past the Keeper, but he’s old and a bit arthritic, so all you’ve got to do is have him walk on his beard, and get past him.”

        Dolores was about to add a little flourish, but all of them, the headless Stoll family, and Doily’s eccentric entourage where ushered out of the cave by the angered Saucerer. And every Peaslander knew you wouldn’t anger a Saucerer without having to deal with dreadful consequences. The green wig of Dolores being probably the remnant of one of these consequences.

        #2770
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Her thinking promised life to those trying something different and now such a thing was possible. There was an atrocious dry mixture of plants to ingest which grew in the cemeteries of the Wise Ones, mixed with an herb from her father, Captain of the Tentacles. Very respected, he had a radiating power.

          :yahoo_good_luck: :yahoo_good_luck: :yahoo_good_luck: :yahoo_good_luck:

          Dory had enjoyed a young wanderer, no need to beat her for that. Becky was very exciting and she barely knew where to start. One that had attracted her was Aratta, before she got stuck to a cushion. She was barely able to move, Dan had to calm her down.

          I’m awfully embarrassed, but I’m stuck!

          :yahoo_blushing:

          Oh dear! It’s natural, after all you decided to dance with what was coming….

          :yahoo_smug:

          #2324

          Ann slapped her forehead when she realized her mistake, notwithstanding that there were no ‘mistakes’ as such.

          The story is for the writer that writes it, not the reader.

          What the repercussions of that were for the future of publishing, Ann wasn’t quite sure.

          “Oh, I can answer that for you, dear” Lavender responded. “On my recent trip to the future I went to the Pick Your Own Pages book store. There’s a wonderful Pick ‘N’ Mix section, and a Lucky Dip. You can pick various quantities, such as chapters, pages, paragraphs or sentences, and you arrange them yourself.”

          “What a wonderful idea!” Ann replied.

          “Oh, the idea was an old one, very old!” Lavvie explained. “People were doing it all along, though they didn’t realize it. The idea of being spoon fed an entire story went out with the Ark. It was the advent of random quote generators that started the ball rolling.”

          Ann beatled off to check the random quote for the day….

          Arona! Sanso! Oh, how wonderful to see you guys again! Come and meet Lavender and Walter, we’re discussing continuity….”

          #2318

          Luckily for Walter, Ann realized she was late for her Flimsy Unravelled Continuity Knowledge class.

          #2514

          In reply to: Strings of Nines

          TracyTracy
          Participant

            The Le Hoot triplets had just arrived from the Nest Dimension and were quietly aclimatizing to the new environment. They were well camoflaged against the pine tree branch, Sprack had done a good job as usual with the expedition planning, his noteworthy attention to detail and vast knowledge of Pulmonia was second to none.

            Sprack unfortunately hadn’t forseen the lungquake occuring so soon after the Hoot’s arrival, however. When the pine branch first started to tremble, F’Loot, who was perched on the outermost position, almost lost her footing. Luckily K’Yoot managed to hold onto F’Loot, while M’Yoot maintaineed a firm hold on the pine trunk, saving them all from an embarrassing and potentially disastrous fall.

            The Le Hoot’s had been sent to Pulmonia to locate all the Lost Eggletons and return them to Ovadonia for debriefing and eventual retirement, with instructions to locate all missing Eggletons, whether they be dead, alive, melted or cooked, or miscellaneous parts thereof.

            As the ground started to shake for a second time, M’Yoot spotted the terrified yellow Eggleton clinging desperately onto a gravestone, beads of chocolatey sweat spattering the cold grey stone.

            M’Yoot tugged K’Yoot’s wing in alarm, pointing wordlessly at Amarilla. K’Yoot in turn nudged F’Loot, who almost lost her footing again. There was an almighty roar as the ground heaved and split.

            As the Lost Eggleton screamed and disappeared into the heaving bubbling goo, the Le Hoot triplets sprang into action.

            #2506

            In reply to: Strings of Nines

            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Yoland was disgruntled. Despite not worrying about money, and regardless of generally feeling abundantly lucky, several large bills had inexplicably all come at once. And then, as if to underline her feeling of losing control, her car skidded badly while she was slowing down for a speed control bump, causing her to career over it at full speed. Rather shaken, Yoland frowned, wondering where she was going wrong. Suddenly she felt a million miles away from ease. Change your energy, she said to herself, but she couldn’t remember how to. She managed to make it home relatively unscathed, and then one of her big dogs accidentally trampled on the new puppy. His squeals of pain as he held up his leg made her even more determined to change her friggen energy, and change it fast. Sheesh, she said. Pfft.

              #1262
              AvatarJib
              Participant

                Following Dory’s example, Yann had subscribe to the daily Universe’s messages. The first time she’d showed him the messages it appeared to be very fun and encouraging, but since he had subscribed, the messages he was receiving were very odd and more like what a spoiled child could tell you.
                Yann had been fed up all day long by the last message in which the Universe had apparently told him that He, The Universe was all knowing and had everything but He won’t give a bit to Yann because!

                Wow! That was a bit rude of Him, Yann thought… better not send anything… maybe he can tell Him next time to go fuck Himself.

                All day long the irritation triggered by that simple note was gathering other tensions… it was like each time he was receiving a phone call, the caller’s energy would be scattered and distracting… and most irritating. Yann was feeling like other people had so many expectations for him and he couldn’t order his ideas or find a distraction.

                All of the imagery would reflect him the same thing, unexpected answers from the Universe.

                “Don’t wait for something particular, because each time it will present itself in a different way.”

                At the end of the day, Yann was puzzled and annoyed… and the text messages he had been receiving on his mobile phone started again.

                Apparently a girl was waiting for some call or message from a guy called “Did”, and she was persuaded that Yann’s number was that guy’s number. At first, Yann wouldn’t answer any of the messages and play the role of /dev/null/ endpoint of the Universe… After each message though, his irritation was growing accordingly…

                He sent a message signed by The Universe and told the girl he was not who she thought he was and that she could as well try another random number to find her “Did”. But well, engrossed as she was in her passion, she answered him by a question : Who was he and why would he use “Did”‘s phone?

                Hopefully Yurick was present… Yann as a good soft would have matched the energy of the Bitch but instead he sent he a last message, wishing her good luck in her quest. No need to add to her distress or the polarization in sending her a message like : Apparently your guy didn’t want to see you again if he’d given you this number…

                Well, the “truth” still hadn’t made its way to her intellect though, she had sent him another message telling him she’d knew it from the beginning, that Yann was Did’s girlfriend and that she/he was trying to keep him/Did for her/him.

                That’s when had some kind of striking revelation… The Universe was called Pedro!
                And when he told that to Yurick, he chuckled and told Yann that the Universe was called Michael…
                “They’re all angels lately, so it’s the name of an angel…”

                Why not?

                #1237

                “Mmm, this temporary mergence with Godfrey/ Orgetak didn’t get so well” Yuki thought.
                “It more and more looks like a “Becky/RafaelaGayesh/Orgetak become troglodytes on a tropical island” adventure…”

                “Now the Vowel Shift seems to have been accomplished, better fragment off this increasing mess and leave it to Ycart /Rafaela… pronto!”

                “Luckily, there still remains the untouched ‘Aarth’ alternate Aniverse to explore, where Alizabath Tittler reads Lemane quotes and spaakes funny taa”

                #1212

                Franiel, dear lad, are you here?”
                The voice was sweet yet authoritative.

                “Yes, M’am. Is there anything I could do for you?”

                Franiel had been at the service of Madame Chesterhope for a few moons, but he felt like it had been his whole life. He quite enjoyed the peaceful life at her mansion, which was interestingly only seldom visited.

                He was offered food and shelter for his doing some repair work for Madame Chesterhope when she was requesting it. The rest of his time was free, and he used to go wander in the calm neighbourhoor to observe the nature which was so different from anything he had seen before. It was as though the whole countryside was by eerie mimicry perfectly suited to the strange lady with the foreign accent.

                The simple work in communion with this nature had streams of words rise inside him like seeds sprouting after a warm rain. He wasn’t sure he wanted to express them however.
                He had tried a few times to tell Lydia, but her merciless laughter alone would have nipped any of his attempts in the bud.

                One of his greatest satisfaction was to go to the ‘motorbike’ and try to figure out its functioning. Lydia had laughed at his stubbornness to try to make the old piece of junk work —by her own words, she’d rather delete the whole thing out of reality, if it was for her to decide. Luckily enough, it wasn’t for her to decide, and nobody else really cared for his attempts.

                He wasn’t seeing Madame Chesterhope so often, and sometimes she seemed gone for hexades without anyone being able to tell if she was there or not. She simply seemed to have disappeared.
                He had been buggered for a while to figure out who the “Others” she had mentioned on their first encounter were, but apparently, had said chatty Lydia who believed the lady to be completely nuts, she was referring to “TEAFERS” (said in a mock-conspiratorial tone). “Teafers?” Franiel had asked puzzled. “Ahaha, you’re so thick sometimes.” had answered Lydia almost chocking herself into gales of laughter “Thieves! She’s obsessed about thieves! I suspect she’s got some precious stuff she would hate to lose. But believe me, to be as obsessed by thieves as she is, she probably hasn’t got all this stuff willingly given to her…”

                Anyway, with all that being said about Madame Chesterhope, she remained to Franiel as much a mystery as she was the first day he’d met her.

                — “Yes. There is something I’d love you to do, sweetheart. There are people who seem to be coming, and the mansion hasn’t received that many gentlemen for a while, as you can obviously tell. I would love you to assist Lydia in preparing the ball room, and the main hall, do some fixing where it’s needed, that kind of things.”
                — “Yes, sure M…”
                — “I won’t be there the next days, so be sure to make all things necessary before I come back. I count on you.”
                — “Very well M’am.”

                #1061
                AvatarJib
                Participant

                  She had been taken to her room by a handsome young Russian after the onboard doctor, who was quite handsome too, had examined her. She had the vague impression she was turning a tad nymphomaniac. She chuckled and she stopped as soon as she realized she sounded like an old goose. No she would not loose her dignity. But she needed to release her tensions.

                  The doctor had told her she was lucky they came at that very moment, but kept quiet after that. That she was aware of, but she couldn’t get more out of him and she was too tired to use her other tricks on him.
                  Better rest a moment; she was confident she’d be kept up to date soon enough by Pavel.

                  How strongly she was despising him…
                  She didn’t know it was possible before their first encounter in Paris, years ago. :yahoo_thinking:
                  Mixed feelings filled up those memories… :yahoo_angry: :yahoo_love_struck: it was also at the same time she’d met Georges, the Dandy as he liked to be called then. What a pair of thieves they were… When was it? 1852? 1853? She wasn’t sure…

                  Her first mistake was to ask them to retrieve that stone from the antique store for her… Of course she hadn’t told them what she was looking for… she only asked them to steal everything in the shop! Still, they didn’t bring it back from the shop though she was positive the sunstone was there… they told her that was all they found; Georges seemed so sincere that she wouldn’t have thought he would double her and keep the stone… and much less use it. Soon enough… yes soon enough she realized she had been deceived.

                  Her second mistake was to offer them an arrangement… but that’s another story. She was not as wary as she was now.

                  She sighed. :yahoo_sigh:

                  Nothing interesting to steal in that room. Just raw blankets and a plain wooden chair… she wouldn’t have expected more from Pavel. Always keeping the best for himself and not quite as chivalrous as the Dandy. Pavel… How did they call him back then? She couldn’t or wouldn’t recall it… something like the Monk… the Monkey would have better suited him, she thought bitterly.

                  But now; she had no time to loose in dim memories.
                  She had to plan her escape.

                  knock knock

                  It only took her a few seconds to compose herself.

                  — Come on in.

                  #1046

                  Sharon and Glo were scratching their back at the same time.

                  “I think I’ve got something there… a sunburn maybe… it’s been itching since a few hours now and it bloody wouldn’t stop. Will you have a look for me Sha?”
                  “Well have a look for me first, my hump is bloody itching too… I think I have allergies… and it will bring you luck :yahoo_eyelashes: dear.”
                  “Oh my Floveness! you’ve not shaven your hump today! I didn’t know you were so blimey hairey! I promise I won’t tell Mavis. Shall I fetch some biafine?”

                  :fleuron:

                  :spider: :yahoo_good_luck: :spider:

                  #1801

                  In reply to: Synchronicity

                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    few spider synchs – the other night I had a vivid dream of a spider, a large one with a funny symbol on it’s back. I found it in my ice-cream and was trying to catch it in a small plastic jar. Then I decided I must search the icecream to see if there were any more spiders. The icecream parted in the middle and changed texture, resembling the texture of a spider’s nest. When I woke up I read Eric’s new comment

                    I had been planning to add a spider comment to the tifikijoo island thread and was had a particular comment in mind. The next time I looked at the story site, the comment I had been thinking of came up as the random quote

                    Franiel thread , where I talked about the messenger birds Fincheons and introduced a motorbike – I wrote this directly before going to my hairdresser. As he was talking he told me he had always wanted a motorbike. He had to leave me for a few minutes to move the motorbike of another client which was blocking the access way. He also told me he’d had an unusual bird incident, a fantail had on two separate occasions circled his head, freaking him out rather. The maori believe this bird is a messenger bird, some believe it is an omen of death, others that it is an omen of good-luck … well whatever it is regarded as a messenger. Another synch with the comment; the fincheons are grey birds, the fantail found commonly in NZ is the grey fantail

                    A couple of synch numberplates today: EAGL 1 and EGY221

                    #877

                    Oh for foocks sake, Finnley grumbled, does that woman never go home?

                    Elizabeth Tattler was passed out on the desk, two empty wine boottles on the floor beside her chair.

                    Foock you too! Foock you too! Screeched Robert X

                    She grinned, she quite enjoyed Robert X, or MrX as she liked to call him.

                    So what’s our Elizabeth been up to eh Mr X? Finnley picked up the messy pile of papers on the desk and carefully put them in order. They looked sort of interesting. Maybe it was time for a rest break. She pulled out her vegemoot sandwooches on chunks of rye bread, and, carefully dusting it first, she sat down on a big armchair in the corner of the office to read.

                    Twenty minoots later she threw the pages on the floor in disgust, but then, disturbed by the mess it made, picked them up again.

                    The character Veranassessee left her particularly disturbed. What a name! And what a Wishy Wooshy Noomby Poomby. Whats all this YES YES YES businoos! That Agent Gabriele was a selfish and dictatorial bastood as far as she could tell.

                    She would see about that! She was no writer but she was sure she could do better than this load of old mongoat droppings.

                    Well she would if she could find a pen on Ms Tattler’s shamboolic desk anyway.

                    :fleuron:

                    Veranassessee (V) drew back from his sloppy kisses. Wait! Have you got protection? she asked, imperatively and sensibly.

                    Protection? … my gun is under the pillow … oh right I see what you mean, stuttered Agent Gabriele apologetically, reluctantly pulling himself from making suction noises on her breast to rummage for a condom in his suitcase.

                    Great, now say that stuff again. You know all that crap about how beautiful I am. I sort of liked it.

                    Agent Gabriele willingly obliged. Of course V recognised it for the lustful rubbish it was … still might as well have a bit of fun. He was damn good looking.

                    Perfect, she said. Now, what position do you prefer?

                    He was momentarily speechless, stunned, and even more aroused, if that was indeed possible, by her forthrightness.

                    She rolled her eyes. Yes, you know POSITION … on top … underneath ..front … back… through a hole in a blanket …? myself I like to keep things simple, don’t want to make too much mess around the place.

                    Anything you want Darling Agent V.

                    A little bit later he sighed contentedly. You are by far the best lover I have ever had.

                    Thanks, everyone says that. Hey! Put out that cigarette, there’s no smoking inside you know. She looked critically around the room. You know this room could do with a damn good clean, I could see dust on the headboard, you know, while we were doing it.

                    I’ll make sure I clean it next time, he murmered huskily, kissing her, and saying that stuff again, about how perfect she was.

                    :fleuron:

                    Finnley giggled to herself. Much better! Well who’d have thought she would have a bit of a gift for writing. Carefully she replaced the pages under the telepooh and made her exit. With a bit of luck Ms Tattler would never notice.

                    #823

                    It had been more than a week now that Claude had broken loose from one captivity to fall into another.
                    Not that this gang of strange shape-shifting magpie beings seemed to consider him a captive, rather an impromptu host that they felt obliged to take care of. But Claude wasn’t duped one moment.

                    His precedent prison on Tikfijikoo had been relatively easy to break out from, thanks to that unasked for gift of preternatural strength he had gained from the experiments he had be subjected to. Actually, had he not almost been driven mad from pain, he would have been on the loose earlier. Thank the Magpies for his recovered sanity…
                    Security on the island facility wasn’t the highest and most difficult he had been confronted to. They seemed to consider the relative isolation of the island and its deadly sharp coral reef encircling it their main asset in keeping their experiments clear from outside interferences.

                    Claude snapped back from his thoughts and gazed fixedly at a tender green sprout at his feet while humming a nursery rhyme. An effective trick.
                    He had to be more cautious… He knew they could read his surface thoughts…
                    Apparently, he could come and go as pleased him, but as he had tried to find his way back to the island facility, he had discovered that the landscape was changing each time he felt close to it. And soon enough, he was finding himself back to the hidden settlement. He knew enough to suspect his affable alien hosts of playing tricks on his mind to keep him in check. Perhaps they were even bending space around their settlement, as far as he knew…
                    Not intrusive, and yet not a very different treatment from the inhumane experiments. Except he had no mummy bandages this time…

                    Know thy foe so went the adage, and Claude was determined to know enough about his new captors to escape and complete his mission.
                    From what he was guessing, as they had not killed him, they probably would release him (if he was lucky) as soon as their mission would be completed —a mission which was most probably the same as his own. Snatching the crystal skull he knew was there somewhere. He could sense they were after it too.
                    He was wondering who had hired them to retrieve the thing. Obviously they were not from the common lot of thieves, most certainly not even from this planet, and anyone who had hired them must have been in dire need of the thing.
                    He had been told by the Baron that the crystals were storing ancient vast knowledge and that accessing it had been only possible since a few decades, actually since the discovery of coherent beams of light (laser). But even accessed, the information stored remained vastly incomprehensible, and deciphering it could take another millennium without appropriate knowledge of its holographic proprieties.
                    The Baron had told humanity was like a child being given a box of books on relativity… And even the mad transvestite doctor was only toying with the tip of an immense iceberg.

                    Those Magpies were far more advanced, Claude could see it clearly, and he wondered how he could outdo them, if that was possible. Quite frankly he didn’t know why they had not yet retrieved it. Perhaps they were having trouble locating it too…
                    That would mean he still had a head start, however short.

                    :fleuron2:

                    A faint barking sound seemed to echo in his head… It was apparently coming from… the gnarled trunk of an old majestic tree… Whispers seemed to come from it too, like a child talking with an adult, and whispers around them…
                    The tree seemed wide enough for him to enter into the biggest crack of its bark…
                    Could it be one of their secret entrances and exits? There had to be coordinate points were they could get out of this warped space… What was he risking to try?

                    #1751

                    In reply to: Synchronicity

                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Luck Now is kind of a cool name, F :heart:

                      TR :games: Y

                      #1749

                      In reply to: Synchronicity

                      F LoveF Love
                      Participant

                        Last night the guests asked where Lucknow Crescent was as they had friends to visit. I had heard of it, but being really bad with directions just gave them a map.

                        Today, walking home from the supermarket I started thinking about synchs. At that moment some workmen in a truck pulled up and asked me if I knew where Lucknow Crescent was.

                        Thinking about this synch … a couple of things struck me … the name is interesting and also that I did not know where it was.

                        (just as i wrote that i noticed a monarch butterfly out of the corner of my eye fly in front of the window, the association here for me is a quote from Abraham I like about the meaning of butterfly signs .. or synchs )

                        As a sort of symbolic thing, i am going to find out were Lucknow Crescent is. As soon as I went to look it up i suddenly remembered where it was.

                        #1745

                        In reply to: Synchronicity

                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          Any 555 syncs? Darren had two 555 flops in online poker just now…..
                          :fruit_orange: :fruit_orange: :fruit_orange: :fruit_orange: :fruit_orange:
                          :fruit_lemon: :fruit_lemon: :fruit_lemon: :fruit_lemon: :fruit_lemon:

                          :yahoo_good_luck: :yahoo_good_luck: :yahoo_good_luck: :yahoo_good_luck: :yahoo_good_luck:

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