Ill clean it later, said Luther, who was sweating like a sprinter. The tree, of course, was wider than the door to the garage, as all trees are. Bathroom cat take a bath you dirty hippie poster Spike pulled the wagon close. Luther grabbed the trunk of the tree, lifted it with a strain, swung, the bottom through the door and pulled the whole thing through. When it was sitting safely in the garage, Luther caught his breath, hit the garage door opener, and managed a smile at Spike. Why are you so brown? the kid asked. The smile vanished as Luther was reminded of the cruise he wouldnt be taking. He looked at his watch-twelve-forty. Twelve-forty and not a single guest for the party, no food, no Frosty, no lights strung anywhere, no tree, as yet, but one on the way. It seemed hopeless at that moment. You cant quit, old boy. Luther strained again and lifted the tree up.
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