As the fog lifted and the wet green sea waved goodbye to the conventional dawn of a new day, we stood there on the water, watching. The coast was dry, the lights were all off bringing morning into life. The 9 members, dressed in goldenrod and automatic control helmets, stood in action stance welcoming whatever offender meant harm. Immediately, a white falcon with a rainbow tail flew in like a string of muscular pasta and gripped its claws with firm but graceful cupidity onto my shoulders as the other 8 stood firm.
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