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| Then, as the Thai twins were polishing my head with the hot wax I had poured over their breasts, the Mexican maid blundered into my bedroom. | |
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| "Por favor, Meester Breenner. Pardon, Pardon," she begged. Gesturing at the bottle trembling in her hand, I bade her come closer. She obeyed, and I recognized the contents of the bottle--floor polish! | |
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| I tore the bottle from her filthy claws, observed the image on the front, produced my autograph pen and signed, "Your Hero, Yul." | |
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