Butter Run by Prakhar Gahlot

I stand rooted, a few feet from them. They do a bro fist as only fraternity boys do, and then walk out of the shop, chortling. As the bell tingles feebly behind them, I unfreeze and walk to the check-out.

I stand rooted, a few feet from them. They do a bro fist as only fraternity boys do, and then walk out of the shop, chortling. As the bell tingles feebly behind them, I unfreeze and walk to the check-out.

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