The boys were folded and slid into a big leather pouch.
Lar worked his way to the bottom of the pouch trying to get away, Rar kept bitching about his toe.
Down there in the dark he met Nick Cole, an intelligent, gregarious fellow with stories.
Nick claimed to have been in circulation since 1973, whatever that meant. He professed to have a value of five, and could be traded for stuff. Lately he need more and more help to get the same kind of stuff. Maybe as a result of getting older.
Lar was confused by, yet liked Nick.
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