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They stared at him with their beady little eyes. Fred stared back. It was
a bit creepy, really. He wondered what would happen if he stopped
playing--he didn't have the wind that he used to, and he was already
getting tired.
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He stopped playing.
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He dropped the bugle, ran through the black door, and slammed it shut behind him.
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Still playing, Fred edged over to the vat, pulled out a few pieces of meat, and threw them to the ferrets.
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Oddly, he noticed that they weren't looking at him, but behind him...
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He wondered if ferrets could swim.
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Turning to run, he tripped over the rug. The bugle flew out of his hands and landed in the vat. With a sizzling noise, it started to dissolve.
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