[That's more than good enough for him. Stan is about to answer when he hears a familiar sound. The farmer's enormous feet, no doubt about to catch him slacking off instead of earning his hay. So he quickly hugs Nill, dreaming happily of birthday dinner, and dives around the corner of the next building over.
Yep, it's the 18th. But he doesn't care what day she delivers on anyway.]
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Yep, it's the 18th. But he doesn't care what day she delivers on anyway.]