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like a farm.
We stayed up late, almost until one in the morning, waiting until the adults came home from their night on the town. Terry dropped both of the pizza dough balls on the floor when he tried to toss them in the air like he saw the guys at the Italian pizzeria do. He flattened them into small circles and when he threw first the one, then the other up in the air with his fists balled up ready to catch them, they hit his hands as if he had clumsy skillets on the end of each arm. They fell to the floor and Tribble licked each one right away so that cut out the homemade pizza for dinner. Alex drove us down to the sub shop and we had sandwiches instead.

"Look at all the rows of meat and cheese lined up like animals." Sometimes Terry said the stupidest things, I think mostly because he feels awkward a lot and can't stand to have silence that lasts too long or he gets antsy and says or does even stupider things.

"Yeah," he said. "It's like a farm, only they're meats and cheeses instead of cows and goats and instead of grasses they graze on crushed ice."

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