Читать книгу Barry Loser and the trouble with pets - Jim Smith - Страница 37

‘Man down!’ cried Stuart, watching

as Darren’s trotter slipped in the

Fronkle.

He flapped his hands like a pig trying to fly and Sharonella whipped behind him, catching him in her arms.

A nose poked out of a purple cloud and Anton appeared at our table.

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