My Husband’s Best Friend Moved in Weeks Ago, Expecting Me to Clean after Him – Husband Sided with Him, So I Taught Them a Lesson

My house used to be spotless when it was me and my husband. But then his friend came to stay and fights and clashes began. My husband didn’t care how I felt or about the distress I shared. It all finally came right when I took matters into my own hands.

When my husband offered his friend sanctuary at our home, he did it without my consent. Little did I know that having his longterm pal there would become a nightmare. Circumstances pushed me to take drastic measures to remedy things.

A dirty and messy bedroom | Source: Pexels

A dirty and messy bedroom | Source: Pexels

This is a photo of the bedroom after my husband’s best friend, Alex, had been staying with us for a few weeks. I cannot describe the smell to you, but believe me, it is putrid and unbearable! Alex moved in with us because his house was undergoing major renovations.

To be honest, my husband invited his friend to come live with us without discussing it with me first. I wasn’t happy with this arrangement, asking, “How long will he be here? And why didn’t you talk to me first before making such a drastic decision?”

A couple having a serious conversation | Source: Pexels

A couple having a serious conversation | Source: Pexels

“I am sorry, love. I wasn’t thinking straight. I allowed my excitement to control me,” he explained. The poor thing looked sincere in his apology, so I relented. But little did I know that would be a big mistake on MY part.

Initially, it was supposed to be a short-term arrangement, but weeks turned into months. My husband, Jake, thought it would be fun to have his best friend around. But he didn’t consider the extra work it would create for me.

A frustrated woman sitting next to someone | Source: Pexels

A frustrated woman sitting next to someone | Source: Pexels

“Don’t worry, babe,” Jake said the day Alex arrived, carrying his duffel bag and a box of video games. “It’ll be like old times. We’ll have a blast!” He also vowed that they’d stay out of my way and wouldn’t be a nuisance.

I forced a smile, but inside, I was already dreading the mess and the idea of living with two men. Jake and Alex had been inseparable since college, bonded by their love for gaming and sports. I, on the other hand, liked my peace and order.

A happy man carrying a duffel bag while his friend follows behind | Source: Midjourney

A happy man carrying a duffel bag while his friend follows behind | Source: Midjourney

Within days, the house transformed, and NOT in a good way! Empty beer bottles littered the living room, snack wrappers were everywhere, and dirty laundry piled up in Alex’s room! Jake and Alex would stay up late.

All they did since our guest came to stay was play video games or drink beer together. Their laughter echoed through the house, while I tried to sleep with a pillow over my head. I was so overwhelmed by all the extra cleaning I had to do.

An upset woman sitting on a windowsill | Source: Pexels

An upset woman sitting on a windowsill | Source: Pexels

And to add to that, I was starting to feel increasingly lonely. One evening, after a particularly long day at work, I found the kitchen in shambles. Crumbs covered the counter, the sink was full of dirty dishes, and a mysterious sticky substance featured on the floor.

I couldn’t take it anymore! “This has to STOP!” I said to myself through clenched teeth and balled-up fists. I decided to tackle my issues with Alex alone with my husband. But, he and his friend were glued at the hip and it was hard to get Jake by himself.

A dirty kitchen with used plates, glasses, and mugs | Source: Pexels

A dirty kitchen with used plates, glasses, and mugs | Source: Pexels

When I finally got a small gap where my husband was by himself, I decided to confront him. “Jake, can we talk?” I called from the doorway of his home office, where he was immersed in work while Alex was knee-deep in another video game in the living room.

“Sure, babe. What’s up?” he said, not looking away from the laptop screen. “I can’t keep up with all the cleaning. I need some help around here.” Jake paused what he was doing and turned to me with a dismissive wave.

A man working on a laptop in his home office | Source: Pexels

A man working on a laptop in his home office | Source: Pexels

I must say, I didn’t expect the response I got from him and it really hurt. Brushing my concerns off he replied, “Oh, don’t be such a downer! You just can’t stand that everything is not about you. Besides, it’s only one more room to clean. It’s not a big deal.”

His words stung! I was about to say something back to him when I noticed he’d gone back to his work! He wasn’t acknowledging my presence anymore! I walked away, feeling both angry and hurt. That night, I lay awake, listening to the childhood friends having a great time!

Two men sitting on the floor eating burgers while playing video games | Source: Pexels

Two men sitting on the floor eating burgers while playing video games | Source: Pexels

Then and there I started planning my next move. I decided to show Jake what “not a big deal” really meant. I figured he needed to experience it firsthand. The next morning, I woke up early and gathered all of Alex’s trash.

Since they slept late, they were going to wake up much later than me. I picked up the empty cans, dirty clothes, and half-eaten food and dumped them all in Jake’s office. By the time they woke up, the room looked like a war zone!

A woman holding a full trash bag | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a full trash bag | Source: Pexels

“Hey, what the hell?” my husband shouted from his office as soon as he opened the door. I knew throwing all the trash in there would have the most impact since Jake worked from home. He needed that space to be functional.

I didn’t bother responding or attending to him since I knew why he was shouting. Instead, Alex popped in and laughed, “Whoa, bro! Your office is a mess! You should do something about that if you want to get any work done.”

A shocked man standing in a dirty room | Source: Midjourney

A shocked man standing in a dirty room | Source: Midjourney

Off he went to prepare some breakfast and get back on the couch! Jake didn’t confront me but pushed everything into one corner so he could enter and work. As the days progressed, dirty dishes, random socks, and leftover food piled up in my husband’s office, causing him to freak out.

“I can’t work like THIS!!!” he shouted for the whole house to hear. I walked in with a sweet smile. “It’s only one room to clean, Jake, so do it. Not a big deal, right?” My husband was FURIOUS, but he couldn’t argue with my logic. Alex, on the other hand, looked sheepish.

A frustrated man | Source: Pexels

A frustrated man | Source: Pexels

“Dude, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was that bad,” he mumbled. “Maybe you should help out more,” I suggested and left them to deal with the mess. For a few days, things improved. Jake and Alex tried to keep the house cleaner, but their efforts were half-hearted at best.

The mess crept back, and I felt my frustration rising again. One Friday evening, I couldn’t take it anymore and confronted Jake. We got into a huge fight where he accused me of being a party pooper. Alex even tried mediating, but since he was the main cause of our stress, I told him to stay out of it.

A couple arguing | Source: Freepik

A couple arguing | Source: Freepik

My husband tried defending his friend but that made me angrier. I decided I’d had ENOUGH! I packed a bag and called my best friend, Lisa. “Can I crash at your place for the weekend?” I asked. “Of course, hon. What’s going on?” she replied.

A man watching as his partner leaves their apartment with a bag | Source: Pexels

A man watching as his partner leaves their apartment with a bag | Source: Pexels

I explained the situation, and she welcomed me with open arms. That weekend, I enjoyed the calm and cleanliness of Lisa’s apartment. I didn’t have to pick up after anyone, and it was a much-needed break.

An emotional woman being comforted by a friend | Source: Pexels

An emotional woman being comforted by a friend | Source: Pexels

On Monday morning, my phone buzzed with a call from Jake. “Please come home,” he begged, all desperate and ashamed. “The house is a disaster, and I can’t find anything I need. Alex is impossible to live with!” This man had a nerve calling me after going silent the whole weekend.

But I still felt a pang of sympathy, yet I stayed firm. “I’ll come back when the house is clean, and Alex is gone.” Jake sighed. “Okay, okay. We’ll clean it up immediately. Just please come home today, my love?”

A man talking on the phone in a dirty home office | Source: Midjourney

A man talking on the phone in a dirty home office | Source: Midjourney

“I’ll think about it,” I replied, not wanting to commit to anything and make him think he’d won. To my surprise, within minutes he sent me a video of them tidying up the house. I chose not to reply to the message but after discussing the matter with Lisa, I decided to go back home.

Two men cleaning a filthy house | Source: Midjourney

Two men cleaning a filthy house | Source: Midjourney

I returned later that day to find the house SPOTLESS! Jake and Alex had scrubbed every inch, and my husband’s friend had packed his bags. “Thanks for the hospitality,” he said sheepishly. “I’ll find somewhere else to stay until the renovations are done.”

A man carrying his luggage bag | Source: Freepik

A man carrying his luggage bag | Source: Freepik

As Alex left, Jake pulled me into a hug. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t realize how much work it was. I should have listened to you.” I softened, seeing the genuine regret in his eyes. “It’s okay. I just need us to be a team, not you and Alex against me.”

From that day on, things improved. Jake made an effort to keep the house clean and helped out more. Our home became a place of peace again, and our relationship grew stronger.

A woman hugging her man while he prepares breakfast | Source: Pexels

A woman hugging her man while he prepares breakfast | Source: Pexels

This is a photo of the extra bedroom after my husband’s best friend stayed with us for a few months. I cannot describe the smell to you, but believe me, it is blissful! Now the torment of having Alex over is just a memory of a lesson learned.

Jake smiled, wrapping his arm around me. “And one we won’t forget.”

A clean bedroom | Source: Pexels

A clean bedroom | Source: Pexels

Life returned to normal, but the experience brought us closer. We learned the importance of communication and respecting each other’s space. And I knew that no matter what challenges came our way, we could face them together.

A happy couple hanging out on a windowsill | Source: Pexels

A happy couple hanging out on a windowsill | Source: Pexels

In the following story, a frugal husband needs to learn a valuable lesson after trying to save by collecting food from food banks. His wife got the food bank’s director involved and cunningly they taught him why the poor need such services.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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I Heard a Woman on the Radio Dedicating a Love Song to My Husband — A Week Later, I Was the One Calling the Station

I froze when I tuned into the local radio livestream. A woman requested a special love song for my husband, dedicating it to their first anniversary. A week later, I called the same station, but for a reason my husband could never have imagined.

So, it was one of those nights where everything just felt heavy. It was pouring rain. My nerves were shot, and I just wanted to be home with a cup of chamomile tea.

As I was fiddling with the radio, trying to find something to drown out my thoughts, I stumbled upon our local DJ, Max. His goofy banter was a bit of a comfort. Then, as one of my favorite songs, “One Love,” ended, Max announced a new caller…

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

“Alright folks, up next is Jessie! Who are you dedicating this song to, sweetheart?”

Jessie giggled. “Hi Max! This one goes out to the most amazing man I’ve ever met, my Ori-bear. We’ve been together a whole year now, and I can’t believe how lucky I am!”

I couldn’t help but smile. I was in love too. But then she said:

“He might get embarrassed, but everyone calls him Mr. Lamber. This song goes out to you, Oric. ‘When a Man Loves a Woman’ is exactly how you make me feel!”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

My heart stopped. Oric? That’s my husband’s name, and it’s pretty unique. The odds of another Oric alias Mr. Lamber seemed impossible. My stomach turned.

I pulled over, my hands shaking. “Oh my God… is he… is he having an affair?” I whispered, hoping the universe had played some kind of twisted joke on me.

But deep down, I knew. The song, the name, it all clicked into place. Tears welled up in my eyes as I sat there, the DJ’s voice and the song’s cheesy lyrics stabbing at my heart.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pixabay

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pixabay

Memories flooded back: Oric’s late nights at the office, the missed dinners, the faint scent of unfamiliar perfume. I wanted to scream, but all I could do was just sit there, numb.

Then my phone buzzed. It was Oric: “Sorry, hon! I’ll be late tonight. Have some important work! XOXO.”

Important work. Yeah, right. I knew exactly what “important work” Oric would be attending to tonight.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

He wasn’t going to get away with this. If this little radio charade was indeed proof of his infidelity, I wouldn’t go down without a fight.

The rest of the night was a blur.

I tried to eat, but my stomach wouldn’t let me. I just sat there on the bed, staring at my phone, waiting for a sign that this was all some huge misunderstanding.

At 3:45 AM, I heard his car. I pretended to sleep as he quietly came into the room. I wanted to confront him, to scream, but I held back. I needed to be sure.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Morning arrived, and so did my suspicion. I called in sick, a flimsy excuse of a headache escaping my lips.

“Ah, darling, I want a break! Thought we could take a long drive,” I turned to Oric. His eyes darted around, searching for an escape. My eyes were drilling into his, looking for hints. Any guesses about what he said?

“Actually, Suzanna,” Oric stammered, “I have a crucial client meeting this morning. Big deal, you know!” He offered a sheepish apology, suggesting a shopping spree with friends as an alternative.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

As he rummaged for his keys, I swooped in, casually picking up his phone from the coffee table.

A flush crept up his neck as he lunged for it. I held it out of reach, amusement flickering in my eyes as I swiped the screen. “Changed the password, Oric?” I turned to him.

“It’s just work stuff, honey,” he offered, a nervous chuckle escaping him. “You wouldn’t be interested, trust me. Boring stuff, you know!”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Isn’t that what we promised?” I countered, my gaze unwavering. “No secrets, remember?”

A weak laugh escaped his lips. “Businessmen have to keep certain things confidential, sweetheart. You wouldn’t understand.”

I met his gaze, the smile fading from my face. “Oh, is that it, Oric? Businessmen? Or something else entirely?”

He avoided my eyes. Well, how could he muster the courage to face me?

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“I, uh, I’ll give you the password later,” he then mumbled, snatching his phone back.

Later? The word sent a cold dread spiraling down my spine. Later meant enough time to disappear… to erase any incriminating evidence.

Offering a smirk, I then started sorting laundry. That’s when I noticed something strange: a long, brunette hair clinging to Oric’s collar. I was blonde. A brunette hair on my husband’s shirt screamed a story I wasn’t quite prepared to hear.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Oric!” I called, holding the offending strand aloft.

“What’s that, honey?” He came running.

“This,” I said, thrusting the hair under his nose. “Found it on your shirt. Care to explain?”

He took one glance, then shrugged dismissively. “Probably someone brushed against me on the bus last night.”

“The bus? Weren’t you taking the car?” I held his gaze.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

His eyes darted to the pristine black SUV parked outside. “Uh, yeah, but it broke down halfway. Took the bus to a mechanic, then he towed it.”

A lie tangled with another.

“Hold on, Oric,” I cut him off. “We both know that’s a lie. Spill it. Which mechanic did you actually take the car to?”

He avoided my gaze. Before I could unleash the full force of my anger, he mumbled something about being late. A hurried peck on the cheek, and he was out the door, briefcase clutched tightly.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

The day stretched on, suspicion gnawing at my insides. No calls, no texts, just the burning ache of betrayal and a hollow feeling in my gut. Finally, at 6 p.m., a text arrived:

“Dinner with clients. Don’t wait up. XOXO .

The once-endearing emojis now felt like a stinging slap.

The next morning, the bed was empty, a chilling absence where Oric’s warmth should have been. In its place, two missed calls and a voice message on my phone:

“Hey babe, just a quick heads-up. Short business trip with a client. Back in five days. Love you, miss you. Mwah!”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

Five days. Five days to stew in this agonizing uncertainty. But one thing was clear: this trip wasn’t about business. It was a desperate attempt to escape the truth, a truth I was determined to unearth.

“Five days,” I muttered, quickly ringing Oric. “We’ll see about that.”

All my calls went unanswered. I grabbed the car keys and the next thing I knew, I was outside Oric’s office building.

The receptionist, a woman with a nametag that read “Sarah,” offered a tight smile. “Can I help you?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Hi Sarah, I’m Suzanna. Is my husband, Oric, in the office today? He mentioned a last-minute business trip, and I was hoping to get some details.” Her smile faltered and said:

“Uh, Mrs. Lamber, actually, Mr. Lamber hasn’t been in all week.”

My stomach lurched. A concerned frown creased Sarah’s brow. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine,” I lied through gritted teeth, rushing out of the lobby and to my car.

Where was he? Was he with her? My head pounded with a million questions, each one sharper than the last.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Five days crawled by. Every unanswered text, every silent phone call, chipped away at the last vestiges of hope.

Then, one evening, the front door creaked open. Oric stood there, exhaustion etched on his face. He wore a casual outfit I’d never seen before.

“Hey, babe,” he mumbled, offering a tired smile. “Sorry about that. Last-minute deal. Had to stay with a client to finalize everything.” I crossed my arms, not believing a word.

“That’s quite a story, Oric. Especially since I visited your office and found out a little truth. Where were you exactly? Spill it.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

The smile vanished, replaced by a flicker of fear in his eyes. “You… you went to the office?”

“Just a little fact-finding mission, honey!” I said. “You wouldn’t believe the fun facts I learned.”

He started to stammer. “What are you talking about, babe? Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course, I do!” I echoed. “Oh, Oric, you have no idea what kind of surprise I have planned for you.” His eyes darted between me and the door. “Surprise?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Oh yes,” I purred, pushing him playfully towards the bedroom. “Get ready, honey. You’re going to love it.”

He followed me, brow furrowed in confusion. But for the first time in days, a sliver of hope bloomed in my chest. The truth would come out, and tonight, the tables were finally about to turn.

“Just you wait,” I playfully whispered. “This surprise is going to be epic. You’re gonna love it, babe!”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Minutes later, Oric emerged from the bedroom in a crisp blue suit.

He leaned in for a kiss, but I held him at bay. “Patience, honey,” I murmured. “The best things are worth waiting for.”

His eyes narrowed in confusion, but he followed me out to the car without further comment. As I pulled out of the driveway, a mischievous glint gleamed in my eyes.

“Let’s make a quick stop,” I announced, taking a detour towards his parents’ house.

Oric’s jaw dropped when he saw them waiting on the porch, smiles plastered on their faces.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Babe, what’s going on?” he exclaimed.

“Surprise!” his parents chorused, bustling towards the car.

My MIL squeezed into the back seat, beaming at me. “Suzanna, dear, this is wonderful! It’s been ages since we’ve all had dinner together. With Oric always so busy with work…”

I glanced at him, a pointed look in my eyes. “Yeah, right!” I said, my voice dripping with irony. “Mr. Lamber here is swamped these days.”

Oric let out a sheepish laugh, clearly bewildered by this sudden turn of events.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

For illustration purposes only | Source: Unsplash

As I drove to the restaurant, a glance at the dashboard clock confirmed it was showtime. I tuned the radio to the familiar station, DJ Max’s cheerful voice filling the car.

“Alright folks, welcome back! Up next is Emma, and she’s dedicating a song to the love of her life. And here we go! Enjoy the track, folks!” he chirped.

As the last notes of the love song faded away, the DJ prompted the next song’s dedication. Taking a deep breath, I dialed the number for the radio station.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

As soon as a cheery voice answered, I blurted out, “Hi, this is Suzanna. I’d like to dedicate a song with a special message to my husband, Oric.”

“Whoa there, Suzanna,” the DJ boomed. “Sounds like there’s a story behind this special song dedication! Mind sharing it with our listeners?”

A flush crept up Oric’s neck.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Taking another deep breath, I plunged into the story. I spoke of the betrayal, the shattered trust, the way I’d stumbled upon the truth, a truth that had left me reeling.

As I spoke, I stole a glance at Oric. The color had drained from his face, replaced by a sickly pallor. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, his gaze desperately pleading with me to stop but I continued:

“And there’s more. It seems Oric’s little secret wasn’t so secret after all. Thanks to his… ‘special friend’ who called in last week to dedicate a love song, his infidelity is out in the open. And let me tell you, Oric’s parents deserve to know exactly what kind of son they’ve raised!”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

The DJ fell silent for a moment. Then, a gentle sympathy seeped into his voice. “Suzanna, that’s a story that deserves to be heard. We can only imagine the pain you’re going through right now. Thanks for calling and here’s a song that might echo a little bit of what you’re feeling.”

As a heartbreaking ballad filled the airwaves, I pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. I got out of the car and left Oric and his bewildered parents scrambling to keep up.

I settled at a familiar table by the window. This was the same table where we’d shared our first date, filled with hopes and dreams that now lay shattered on the floor.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Without a word, I slipped off my wedding ring. Slamming it on the table, I met Oric’s pleading gaze. “Consider this my treat,” I finally declared, “for our upcoming divorce.”

The clatter of the ring on the table echoed in the sudden silence. Oric’s parents, mouths agape, stared between me and their son, their faces etched with dawning horror.

“Suzanna, honey, what’s going on?” Oric’s mother stammered. “What did Oric do?”

“Ask your beloved son who’s playing innocent,” I countered. “The radio said it all.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Oric, desperation etched on his face, reached for me. “Suzanna, please,” he pleaded. “Let me explain. It wasn’t what it looked like.”

But the words rang hollow. The blind trust I’d placed in him, the years of love and devotion, all felt like a cruel joke as I said:

“There’s nothing left to explain. This marriage is over.”

His father, a stern-looking man with a salt-and-pepper beard, finally found his voice. “Oric,” he boomed, his voice heavy with disappointment. “Is this true? What Suzanna says? Were you having an extramarital affair?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Oric mumbled something incoherent, his gaze darting around the room like a trapped animal.

“Don’t lie to your father,” his mother snapped. “We deserve the truth.”

Shame finally flickered in Oric’s eyes. He hung his head, a defeated sigh escaping his lips. “There is someone else,” he finally confessed. “But it meant nothing. It was a mistake.”

“A mistake that destroyed our trust, our future,” I choked out. “You lied to me, Oric. For how long? How would you feel if I did this to you?”

He remained silent. But his damn silence wasn’t gonna fix things.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“I can’t stay here,” I declared. “I need some air.”

With a final, withering glance at Oric, I pushed myself away from the table and walked out of the restaurant, the clatter of the wedding ring against the table echoing in my wake.

It broke my heart to do this, but tell me, was what he did right? Did I deserve to live a life of lies with a man who not only cheated on me but also wished to keep me in the dark all my life?

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Here’s another story about how a woman unraveled her husband’s secret when their daughter chirped about her new teacher, “Daddy has a picture of her!”

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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