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⠀⡴⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢷⣰⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢧⠀
⢠⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣦⢸⡏⢰⣶⣶⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡆
⠀⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠉⣸⢻⡈⠙⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠃
⣰⠋⠢⣄⣀⣀⣀⣤⠞⠁⠀⠑⠤⣄⣀⣀⡤⠞⢳⡀
⡏⠀⠀⠀⢌⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⢠⠀⣧
⣇⠘⢄⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢆⠀⠀⢁⡏
⠘⢦⣀⠀⠀⠘⠲⣄⡀⠀⠀⣀⡤⠖⠁⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁
⠀⣠⠼⢛⡷⣲⣶⠶⣿⣶⣾⡯⢤⣴⠶⡖⠯⣅⡀⠀
⠾⡅⢀⡞⢠⣿⡿⠀⢿⣿⣿⠇⠸⣿⣇⠙⡄⠀⡽⠀
⠀⠑⢾⢀⣾⣿⠇⠀⢸⣿⣿⠀⠀⣿⣿⡄⢹⡖⠃⠀
⠀⢠⡞⣉⣙⠛⢓⡒⠚⣻⡛⠓⢒⠛⠛⣛⠛⣧⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠉⠉⠈⠛⠋⠉⠚⠁⠙⠚⠉⠛⠊⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀
|| ∧ ヘ ||
|| (* ´ ー`) ZZzz
|ノ^⌒⌒づ` ̄ \
( ノ ⌒ ヽ \
\ || ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄||
\,ノ||
They unlock room. They walk into room. They look ahead for papier-mâché arts and crafts I make for them. They do not see a piñata. They do not see me. They look left. They do not see a piñata. They do not see me. They look right. They do not see a piñata. They do not see me.
They look up. Above them I whisper, "I make papier-mâchéte."