Twas the seasonal fest at the workhouse today. The cuts be so bad now we get nothing but a potato each. We huddled about thinking of the good ole days when all was merry and bright and we did even get a bottle of wine each to take back. Nowadays we don't get so much as a thank you for working to the bone all year.
Then when I get back to the shack I find a mountain of bark chippings in the yard, so things might be looking up for a change...
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