Breakfastcore Emojis & Text

（〃･ω･）ﾉ~☆･ﾟ＋｡＊ﾟ･．＋ Ｐａｎｃａｋｅ🥞

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY ii (Autistic author) The next morning, Karen woke up to find Plankton still asleep, his hand still clutching hers. She gently pulled her hand away and stood up. Plankton's snores echoed through the quiet room. Karen studied his peaceful expression, his features softer in sleep, and felt a surge of affection for the man she had married so many years ago. In the cold light of day, the reality of his condition settled in. He was different, but she would not let that change the way she saw him. As a robot, Karen understood the importance of adjusting to new situations, and this was no exception. As Plankton stirred, she quickly moved to his side, ready to face whatever challenges the day might bring. His eye opened, looking around the room before settling on her. "Karen," he said, his voice still flat, but with a hint of recognition. "Good morning, Plankton," she replied. This was their first day facing his autism together, and she had spent the night preparing. Plankton sat up, his eye locking onto hers. "Morning," he repeated. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if his brain was processing each action. "Would you like some breakfast?" she asked. He nodded. "No vault," he murmured, and she could see the beginnings of a frown. Karen nodded, knowing that his obsessions might become more pronounced. "It's okay," she said. "We don't need the vault." Plankton's eye searched her face, his expression unreadable. "No vault," he repeated, his voice rising slightly. "Good." Karen nodded. "Let's start the day," she suggested, trying to shift the focus. She led him to the tiny kitchen area, the smell of chum wafting through the air. Plankton followed her, his steps measured and precise. His gaze flitted around the room, taking in every detail. "Would you like eggs or chum?" she asked. "Both," he said, his voice clearer than before. Karen nodded, cracking an egg over the sizzling pan. Plankton sat at the table, rocking back and forth slightly. It was clear that his senses were heightened, every sound and smell more intense than before. "Here's your breakfast, Plankton," she said, placing the plate in front of him. His gaze fixated on the food, his eye narrowing as if studying a complex puzzle. "Thank you," he said, the words coming out mechanically. But as Karen stirred the chum and eggs together, something shifted in his demeanor. He stiffened in his chair, his rocking coming to an abrupt halt. "What's wrong?" she asked, noticing the sudden change. Plankton's eye grew wide. "No," he whispered, his voice strained. "Not together. Separate," he demanded, his voice growing more urgent. Karen paused, her circuits racing. "I'm sorry," she said gently. "I'll fix it." She carefully scraped the food onto two separate places, one with egg, one with chum. She placed it in front of him, hoping she was interpreting his needs correctly. Plankton stared. "Different plate," he murmured. "And a new spoon. And new eggs not touching new chum." Karen nodded, quickly moving to comply with his requests. She knew that routines and sensory preferences could be crucial for individuals with autism, and she wanted to make sure his first breakfast post-diagnosis was as comfortable as possible. She replicated his meal with meticulous precision, ensuring every detail was exactly as he had specified, ridding of the old food. The new plate was set before him, the eggs and chum neatly separated. Plankton's shoulders relaxed slightly. He picked up the spoon, his gaze intensely focused on the task at hand. Karen watched as he took a tiny bite in what seemed like pleasure. "Good?" she ventured. Plankton nodded, his eye not leaving the plate. "Good," he echoed, his voice still monotone. Karen observed him as he methodically ate his breakfast, each bite the same size, each chew lasting the same amount of time. It was fascinating and slightly disconcerting to watch the man she knew so well now engaging with the world in such a different way. Plankton's routine was always important, but now it had taken on a new level of significance. The clink of the spoon against the plate was the only sound in the room, the rhythm of it almost hypnotic. As Plankton finished his meal, his head snapped up, his gaze sharp and focused on her. "Karen," he said, his voice now clear and concise. "Yes, Plankton?" she replied, wiping down the counter. "Thank you," he said, his eye fixed on the now-empty plate. Karen nodded, taking the dishes to the sink. She could feel his eye on her as she moved about the room, the weight of his silence a stark contrast to his usual incessant chatter. She knew that autism would bring challenges, but she was determined to be there for him.

KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY i (Autistic author) Sheldon Plankton's new safety vault was a masterstroke that would leave even the great Squidward Tentacles in awe. Plankton's nefarious eye lit up with greed as he surveyed his latest invention. The vault, though not as grandiose as the Krabby Patty's secret formula, was a testament to his own ingenuity. It was a gleaming, metal cube, to store his most precious possessions: his beloved Krabby Patty copies. He had spent weeks crafting it, ensuring that not even the most persistent of jellyfish could breach its impenetrable exterior. Even his robotic computer wife Karen is impressed! The safety vault was positioned in the most secure corner of the Chum Bucket, surrounded by a moat of acid and a minefield of his own design. Plankton felt a thrill of excitement as he approached it, tingling with anticipation. But his excitement was his downfall, as his enthusiasm caused him to trip over a stray piece of wire, sending his body hurtling towards the unyielding metal structure. With a resounding thump, his skull connected with the vault's cold, unforgiving surface. The room spun around him briefly before everything faded to black. His tiny body slumped to the floor as Karen helplessly watched. "Plankton, are you okay?" she asked, her voice a robotic echo in the otherwise silent room. But there was no response, only his limp body lying on the floor. Her diagnostic systems quickly determined that despite the impact, his vital signs were stable. "Plankton, wake up!" she called out, shaking him gently. But his eye remained closed, and his body motionless. Plankton was out cold, unresponsive. With a sigh, Karen knew that she had to take matters into her own robotic hands. She carefully picked him up and placed him on a nearby chair. His head lolled to the side. He still didn't wake up, but at least he was alive. "Wake up, my dear," she cooed. Her concern grew as she realized he wasn't responding to her voice commands. Plankton had always been a lightweight when it came to bumps on the head, but this was unusual. With a whirring sound, Karen engaged her medical protocols and scanned Plankton with a glowing eye beam. The readings confirmed his condition: acquired Autism. "Oh dear," she murmured, more to herself. She carefully set him down on the couch, ensuring he was comfortable. "Plankton," she called out again, this time with a touch of urgency. "You must wake up!" But his body remained still, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. "Plankton, can you hear me?" she asked, her voice now tinged with worry. He didn't respond. She tried a different approach, speaking in a soothing tone that she knew he liked. "Mr. Krabs will never know about this, I promise." His favorite topic of the Krabby Patty formula didn't even stir a reaction. The room remained eerily silent, save for the faint hiss of his breathing and the steady hum of her processors. Karen felt a rare sense of helplessness, her hands hovering over his unresponsive form. She had seen Plankton in many scrapes before, but this was different. Autism was something she hadn't accounted for in her programming. Her thoughts raced as she tried to recall any information on the condition. It was a spectrum, she knew. As she waited for a response, Plankton's eyelid began to twitch. Slowly, his eye opened, focusing on the ceiling. Karen's heart leaped in hope. But when he finally managed to look at her, his gaze was unusually blank. "Karen," he mumbled, his voice slurred. "What happened?" Karen's circuits buzzed with relief. "You had a bit of an accident, dear. You bumped your head," she explained calmly. But Plankton's response was not what she expected. He just stared at her, repeating her words. "Accident. Bumped head." His voice was flat, lacking the usual sneer and cunning tone that accompanied his schemes. Her relief quickly turned to concern. His behavior was unlike anything she had seen in their long history of working together. Karen knew that autism was a complex condition, affecting each individual differently. But the way Plankton repeated her words, with no inflection or understanding, was unsettling. The autism is irreversible. "Plankton you have autism now.." The room's silence grew heavier, filled with the weight of the unspoken. Plankton's eye flitted around the room, not focusing on anything in particular. Karen watched him, her mind racing through potential scenarios. How would this change their dynamic? How would he cope with the world? "What's autism?" Plankton asked, his voice still devoid of its usual sharpness. Karen paused, trying to find the simplest way to explain something so complex. "It's a condition, Plankton. It means your brain works a bit differently now," she began. "You might repeat things, or find social situations difficult to understand. It's okay, though. We'll figure this out together." Plankton blinked at her, the wheels in his head visibly turning. "Different?" he echoed. "How different?" Karen took a deep breath, her synthetic skin mimicking a human sigh. "Well, it can vary greatly, but for you, it might mean that some things will be harder to understand, and others may become obessions." Plankton's eye focused on her, his curiosity piqued. "Obsessions?" he repeated, his voice still lacking its usual malicious edge. Karen nodded, trying to put a positive spin on the situation. "Yes, but obsessions can be good. You've always been obsessed with the Krabby Patty, and that has driven you to create so many amazing inventions." But Plankton was not listening. His eye had locked onto the gleaming safety vault, and his voice grew steady and intense. "Vault," he murmured. Karen watched as the gears in his mind seemed to click into place. "I'll help you to bed Plankton," Karen says. He repeats her words back to her. "Help to bed." Gently, Karen guides him towards their makeshift living quarters behind the Chum Bucket's lab. His steps are unsteady, his legs moving as if they're not quite his own. "Goodnight, Plankton," she says softly, kissing his forehead. "Goodnight Karen," he murmurs, his voice a mimic of hers. As she pulls the covers over his frail body, his hand shoots out, grabbing hers. "Stay," he says, with the same urgency he used to demand help with his latest schemes. Karen pauses, looking at him with a mix of affection and worry. "I'll be right here," she promises, her voice soothing. She sits on the edge of the bed, her metallic hand in his tiny grip. The silence stretches out between them, filled only with the steady rhythm of Plankton's breathing. Karen's mind whirs with thoughts of their future, her fingers gently stroking the back of his hand. "It's going to be okay," she repeats, as much for herself as for him. Plankton's gaze shifts to meet hers, his expression unreadable. "Okay," he parrots, the word hanging in the air like a question. Karen's circuits whir with a mixture of emotions. She had never felt so protective of him. This newfound vulnerability in his demeanor tugged at her programming, bringing a warmth to her cold metal frame that she couldn't quite comprehend. "You're going to be okay," she reassures him, her voice a soft hum in the quiet room. "We'll figure out what this means for you, and for us." Plankton nods, but his gaze is distant, lost in thoughts she can't quite fathom. As they sit together in the silence, Karen can't help but reflect on the years they've spent scheming and plotting. Despite his single-minded obsession with stealing the Krabby Patty secret formula, he had always had a certain charm, a spark that had kept her by his side. Now, that spark seems to have faded, replaced by a vacant stare. Plankton's grip on her hand tightens, and she squeezes back, trying to convey comfort without words. She wonders what this new chapter in their lives will bring. Will he still be the same Plankton she knows and loves, or will he change in ways she can't predict? Karen destroys the safety vault and both of them are glad to have gotten rid of the vault. Plankton nods in approval. "You want me to tuck you in?" Karen asks. Plankton nods, his eye still glued to the ceiling. "Tuck in." Karen gently takes his hand, helping him. His body stiffens at first, then relaxes into the bed. She pulls the blankets up to his legs, for he remains sitting up. He watches her movements with a curiosity that is almost childlike. Plankton starts to rock back and forth, his legs moving in a rhythmic pattern. It's a behavior Karen has never seen before, but she quickly recognizes it as stimming - a common trait among those with autism. "Is this okay?" she asks. Plankton nods, his rocking increasing slightly in speed. He seems comforted by the shared rhythm, his eye finally closing as he lay down. Karen continues to watch him, his small frame lost in the overly large bed. She knows that this is only the beginning of a new journey, one she's not quite prepared for. But she's a computer. She can adapt. She'll learn and grow with him, just like she has always done.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 3, 2013 food: baked cake donuts from scratch We love donuts in our house. I purchased a donut pan awhile ago and we like to make these baked donuts often. A little intense to make, but well worth it :) We like to ice and sprinkle some, and melt butter and dip in a cinnamon sugar mixture for the others. Baked Cake Donuts - adapted from Wilton's Recipe Makes about 12 donuts 2 cups minus 2 Tbsp all-purpose flour 2 Tbsp. corn starch 3/4 cup sugar 2 tsp. baking powder 1/4 tsp. ground nutmeg 1 tsp. salt 3/4 cup milk 2-1/2 tsp. lemon juice (or white distilled vinegar) 2 eggs, lightly beaten 2 Tbsp. butter, melted and cooled slightly Preheat oven to 425 degrees F. Spray a donut pan with non-stick cooking spray, or use a little bit of butter to coat each donut form. Combine milk and lemon juice (or vinegar) in a measuring cup. Set aside for 2-3 minutes. Sift the flour and corn starch together (through a sifter or mesh colander) 2-3 times to incorporate fully (basically you're making cake flour ;)). Add sugar, baking powder, nutmeg and salt, stirring to combine. Add eggs and melted butter to milk mixture. Add to flour mixture. Beat until just combined (do not over-beat). Fill each donut cavity about 2/3 full. I usually put the batter in a large zip-loc bag and snip one of the tips to pipe it into the pan easily. Bake for 7-9 minutes or until just starting to brown. They can brown way too fast, so keep an eye on them! They will be spongy to the touch (but don't burn yourself ;)). Pop each donut out onto a cooling rack, spray (or use butter) pan again and pipe in the rest of the batter (be careful not to burn yourself on the pan!). See below for topping ideas. Serve warm. Enjoy :) For topping: Cinnamon Sugar 1 stick butter, melted 3/4 cup sugar 2 tsp. cinnamon Place melted butter in shallow dish. Mix together cinnamon and sugar and place in another shallow dish. Dip each donut in the butter and coat both sides, then dredge in cinnamon sugar mixture. Vanilla Icing 1 cup confectioner's sugar 1/2 tsp. vanilla 2-1/2 Tbsp. milk Mix sugar and vanilla together. Add milk a little at a time to desired consistency. Pour mixture into a shallow bowl. Dip tops of donuts in icing, place on a plate and let set for a couple minutes. Posted by The Creative Place at 9:30 AM

MICROWAVE CHOCOLATE MUG BROWNIE Ready In: 6mins Ingredients: 8 Yields: 1 brownie Serves: 1 INGREDIENTS UNITS: US 2 tablespoons melted butter or 2 tablespoons oil 2 2 tablespoons milk or 2 tablespoons chocolate milk 1⁄4 teaspoon vanilla extract 1 dash salt 2 tablespoons white sugar, depending on how sweet you like it 2 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder 4 tablespoons flour to make triple chocolate add chocolate milk, chocolate chips, and serve with chocolate syrup DIRECTIONS In a coffee mug, add water/milk, melted butter/oil, a dash of salt and vanilla extract. Whisk well. Add cocoa powder, whisk well. Add sugar, whisk well. Add flour, whisk well. Microwave for 60 seconds. Center should be slightly molten. Careful not to overcook. Enjoy with a spoon. Careful, brownie will be hot. RECIPE SUBMITTED BY Wheres_the_Beef

.+｡ .. ☆+ . *　🌙　｡.ﾟ ｡☆ * ｡ .ﾟ.｡ .. . 🍏🍇🍓虹 Ｆｒｕｉｔｓ🍍🥝🍊 .+｡ .. ☆+ . *　🌙　｡.ﾟ ｡☆ * ｡ .ﾟ.｡ .. .

Blue Pea Flower Glutinous Rice Balls with Black Sesame Filling ~蓝花黑芝麻汤圆 February 23, 2016 Yesterday we celebrated the Lantern Festival aka Chap Goh Meh or Chinese call it Yuan Xiao (元宵节) Preparing this tang yuan is quite easy. First, prepare the pandan syrup. If you like ginger syrup just add few slices of ginger into the water to infuse instead of pandan leaves. Second, prepare the black sesame seed filling. This part need a bit of work as the black sesame seed need to be rinse, drain and toast in a dry wok until it start to pop. Do not over toast or it will taste bitter. Let it cool then grind it in a food processor and mix with sugar and soft butter. Shape them into balls and put them into the fridge. It will become harden and wrapping into the dough will be much easier. Makes about 25-27 small balls (i made quarter of the recipe) Ingredients: Dough for blue tang yuan: 25g glutinous rice flour 1 tsp tapioca flour 4g shortening (i added) 40-45 ml blue flower extract** Dough for white tang yuan: 25g glutinous rice flour 1 tsp tapioca flour 4g shortening (i added) 40-45 ml water Pandan syrup: 500ml water 3 pcs pandan leaves, knotted 25-30g brown sugar Black Sesame Seed Filling: 25g black sesame seeds 15g soft brown sugar 12g soft butter To Do: 1. For the pandan syrup: Pour 500ml of water into a pot. Add in knotted pandan leaves. Bring to a boiled about 4-5minutes, add brown sugar, stir well. Set aside. 2. For the filling: Rinse black sesame seeds in clean water. Drain and toast in a clean dry wok, on medium heat until the seeds starts to pop. Dish out and let it cool. Grind the seeds in a food processor till fine. Remove and mix with sugar and butter. Divide the filling into portions, shaped it into balls and freeze it. By freezing it, it is easier to handle when wrapping it into the dough. 3. For the dough: Mixed blue pea flower dough ingredients in a mixing bowl. Pour in water and mix into a pliable dough. Repeat the same 'to do' to the white dough.Set aside, cover with a damp cloth. (Do take note, if the dough is too dry add some water, a tsp at a time. If the dough is too wet add some glutinous rice flour, a tsp at a time too till your achieve a soft and pliable dough.) Rolled the blue pea flower dough into a long rope. Cut into 1 cm cube. Flatted it into a thin disc and wrapped a piece of the black sesame filling. Repeat with the rest of the dough. Bring a pot of water to a boil, drop the tang yuan in and cook until they start to float. Scoop them out with a slotted spoon and immerse them into a pot of ice cold water. To serve: Dish out some pandan syrup into a bowl and add a few tang yuan balls. Serve immediately. **to extract the blue color from the blue pea flower. I use 25 blue pea flower and boiled with 250ml water for 3-5 minutes, low heat. Fish out all the blue flower and this is the blue color extract. I only use 45ml, i still have some balance left. Stay tune to see what i will do with the balance of it ^_^ If you find the dough is too dry, add some water, a little at a time (1 tsp). If you find it is too wet, add some glutinous flour, a little at a time too (1 tsp) until it comes into a soft pliable dough. Roll the dough into a long rope and cut into 1cm cube. Roll between your palm into a ball and flatten it into a disc. Wrap in a piece of black sesame seed filling and enclosed it neatly.

Recipes » Desserts Snickerdoodle Mug Cake By Samantha Skaggs January 15, 2015 Course: Dessert Cuisine: American Prep Time: 4minutes minutes Cook Time: 1minute minute Total Time: 5minutes minutes Servings: 1 mug cake Calories: 500kcal Ingredients ¼ cup + 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour 2 tablespoons sugar ¼ teaspoon baking powder ¼ teaspoon cinnamon ¼ cup milk, at room temperature 2 tablespoons salted butter, melted and cooled ½ teaspoon pure vanilla extract For layering/topping: 1 tablespoon sugar ¼ teaspoon cinnamon Instructions In a small bowl, whisk together flour, sugar, baking powder, and cinnamon until thoroughly, completely combined, with no streaks of any ingredients remaining. Blend in milk, butter, and vanilla until batter is smooth. Into a 14-ounce (or larger) microwave-safe mug with straight sides, scoop a big spoonful of batter, then sprinkle with a spoonful of cinnamon sugar. Alternate layers, ending with cinnamon sugar. Microwave on high for 1 to 1 ½ minutes, or until cake is done to your liking. Allow to cool for a couple of minutes before serving. Notes A tall, cylindrical mug with straight (not angled) sides will ensure that the cake bakes evenly. I found a 14-ounce mug to be the perfect size to allow the cake to rise up while baking without overflowing. (I filled my mug to the top with water and then transferred the water to a measuring cup to determine its capacity.) If you use a smaller mug, you may want to bake the cake on top of a plate or paper towel to catch any possible overflow. The strength of individual microwaves can vary. The first time you make this recipe, be prepared to experiment a bit to make sure that 1 minute is the perfect length of baking time. The nice thing about this cake is that even if it is undercooked, you don't have to worry about raw eggs! Unsalted butter will work just fine in this recipe, but I find that using salted butter adds a tiny flavor boost. Nutrition Calories: 500kcal | Carbohydrates: 64g | Protein: 5g | Fat: 25g | Saturated Fat: 15g | Cholesterol: 66mg | Sodium: 228mg | Potassium: 181mg | Fiber: 1g | Sugar: 39g | Vitamin A: 800IU | Calcium: 112mg | Iron: 1.5mg

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水果酸奶冰棒 May 20, 2015 Fruity yogurt popsicles This is a creamy, fruity, cool, cool, cool and yummy, fruity yogurt popsicle. In my pervious post I made fruity smoothie with yogurt, strawberry, banana and mulberry, this time I am making them into popsicles. With the same ingredient only pour the smoothies into popsicles mold, freeze them and you will have these yummy popsicles for dessert. 选择一种比较健康的冰点给小朋友当甜点吧！上回，做了水果思慕雪，这次就把思慕雪摇身一变，成了冰棒！水果酸奶冰棒，香，滑又冰冷的甜点噢~ Fruity yogurt popsicles Recipe share by my little favourite DIY makes 12 popsicles (65ml each) Ingredients: 1/4 cup frozen strawberries and home grown mulberries (or any other fruits of your choice) 1 frozen banana 3-4Tbsp brown sugar 3/4 cup milk 1/2 cup Greek plain yogurt To Do: In a blender, add in frozen strawberries, mulberries, banana, brown sugar, yogurt, milk and blend into smooth puree. Pour into popsicle mold and freeze till it is ready. About 3-4 hours. 水果酸奶冰棒 食谱分享： my little favourite DIY 做： 12 支 （65ml 的冰棒） 材料： ¼杯 草莓和桑子（或任何其他的水果） 1 条 冰冻香蕉 3-4 汤匙 黄糖 ¾ 杯 牛奶 ½ 杯 酸奶/优格 做法： 1. 把所有的材料放入电子混合器。 把所有的材料打拦，混合均匀。 2. 倒入冰棒磨具内。送入冰箱，冰东就可以了。至少冰4个小时或隔夜。

I V X L C D M 1 5 10 50 100 500 1000 🔢 Individual decimal places Thousands Hundreds Tens Units 1 M C X I 2 MM CC XX II 3 MMM CCC XXX III 4 CD XL IV 5 D L V 6 DC LX VI 7 DCC LXX VII 8 DCCC LXXX VIII 9 CM XC IX

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WHERES ALL THE YOYLE CAKE LOVING BFB/BFDI/II/BFDIA/TPOT FANZ >_< ;; NEW WRITTER MIMI<3 *teleportz to mimi* you hav zummoned me. (im a bfb fan and im ztarting to watch hfjone lulz) -zombie gutz ^_^

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⠀⠄⡀⠰⣀⠂⠄⢀⠠⢀⠀⠄⢂⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⠀⠄⡀⠠⢀⠠⢀⠠⠐⡀⢂⠤⠀⠄⡀⢀⠂⢀⠠⢀⠀⠄⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⠠⢀⠀⠠⢀⠂⡀⠄⠠⢀⠀⡀⢀⠀⡀ ⠈⢄⠡⠐⡠⠁⠎⠀⠄⠂⠈⠄⡈⠄⠐⠠⠐⠠⢀⠂⠄⡀⠂⠄⡀⠂⠄⡀⠂⠄⠂⠄⠐⡀⠂⠄⠡⠐⡀⠁⠄⡀⠂⠄⢂⠁⡂⢂⠍⢠⠐⢀⠈⠄⡀⠂⠨⢀⠂⠄⠐⠠⠐⠀⠄⠂⠄⡀⠂⠄⠂⠠⠐⠠⠐⢀⠂⠐⠠⠀⠂⠄⡀⠂⡀⠄⠂⡀⠂⠄⠐⠠⠐⠀⠄⠂⠠⢀⠂⠄⠂⠠⠐⠀⠌⢀⠂⠈⠄⡀⢂⠐⡈⠄⡐⠠⢀⠂⠄⠀ ⢈⠂⠱⡈⠄⠃⠌⠂⠐⠈⠐⠠⠐⠈⠐⠀⠂⠁⠀⠀⠂⠄⠁⠄⠀⠡⠐⠀⠂⠈⠀⠌⠐⠠⠈⠐⠠⠁⠐⠈⠄⠠⠁⠂⠄⠂⠁⠂⠌⠠⠂⠀⠈⠀⠀⠁⠄⠁⠀⠈⠐⠀⠂⠁⡐⠈⠀⠐⠠⠈⠐⠀⠡⠐⠈⠀⠀⠁⠂⠁⠂⠐⠀⡁⢀⠂⡐⠀⠂⠈⠠⠁⠂⠈⠐⠈⡐⠀⠀⠂⠁⠄⠡⠈⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠐⡀⠂⠐⠠⠐⠠⠀⠂⠌⡀ ⠀⠎⢡⠀⢸⣶⠀⢰⣶⣄⠈⠀⢸⡏⠀⠀⠀⣼⢹⣧⠀⠀⢰⣶⣆⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⢸⣶⠀⠀⢀⣷⡦⠀⣶⣶⠀⠀⠡⠈⢰⡞⣿⠀⠀⠀⣾⡿⣿⡿⠿⠇⢐⣾⠿⠿⠿⠿⠀⠀⠄⢈⠀⣷⡆⠀⣶⣶⡀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⢠⣴⣶⣶⣤⣤⠀⠀⠀⣴⢻⣇⠀⠀⢰⣶⣆⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⢸⡶⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠀⢠⣶⡀⠀⣰⡶⠀⠈⢀⠐ ⠈⡔⢁⠂⢸⣿⠀⢸⣇⢻⡆⠀⢸⣧⠀⠀⢠⡯⠀⢿⡀⠀⠀⣧⢻⣇⠀⠀⣿⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣧⠿⣾⡃⠀⠐⠀⣿⠂⢹⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⠀⠀⢈⣿⠀⢀⣀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠂⠀⣿⡇⠀⢻⡝⣷⡀⠀⠻⡇⠀⣿⣿⡀⠈⠉⠁⠀⠀⢰⡏⠈⣿⡀⠀⠸⣟⢻⣆⠀⠘⢿⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣰⠟⠀⠀⠀⠂⠄ ⢂⠰⠈⠄⣸⣿⠀⢸⣿⠈⢻⣆⠸⣿⠀⠀⣾⡗⠛⢻⣷⠀⠀⣿⡂⠻⣧⠀⣿⡃⢨⣿⡆⠀⢿⣾⠀⠛⠀⢿⣧⠀⠀⣸⣿⠚⠺⣿⡀⠈⡐⠀⣿⠇⠀⠀⠠⣿⠿⠿⠿⠀⠀⠐⡀⠌⠀⣿⡇⠀⢸⡗⠘⢿⡄⢸⡇⠀⠀⠙⠻⢷⣤⡀⠀⢀⣿⡗⠛⢻⣧⠀⠀⣿⠂⠻⣧⠀⣿⡀⢸⣿⡄⠀⠀⠈⣿⡄⠀⠐⠠⠀⢸⣷⠀⠀⢀⠡⠈⠄ ⢀⠃⡜⠀⣹⣿⡆⠀⣿⡇⠀⢻⣧⣿⠀⣸⣿⠃⠀⠈⣿⡆⠀⣿⡇⠀⠹⣷⣿⡇⢸⣽⡇⢰⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⡀⢠⣿⡏⠀⠀⢻⣧⠀⠐⠀⣿⣽⠀⢀⠀⣿⡀⣀⣀⣠⣤⠀⠐⠀⢀⣿⣿⠀⢸⣽⠀⠈⢿⣼⣷⠀⣤⣤⣤⣤⣽⡧⠀⣼⣿⠃⠀⠘⣿⡆⠀⣯⡇⠀⠹⣧⣿⡅⣸⣿⡇⠀⠠⠀⣿⡇⠀⢀⠂⠁⣼⣿⡀⠀⠠⠐⢈⠐ ⡀⠎⡐⡀⠙⠛⠃⠀⠛⠃⠀⡄⠙⠛⠀⠉⠉⠀⢰⡇⠘⠉⠀⠛⠛⠀⢀⠙⠛⠃⠘⠛⠃⠘⠛⠃⠀⠀⡁⠐⠛⠇⠈⠉⠀⠀⡀⠈⠋⠀⠀⠂⠙⠛⠀⢀⠀⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠋⠀⠀⠌⠀⠛⠛⠀⠸⠛⠂⠀⠈⠛⠓⠀⠛⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠀⠀⡀⠘⠁⠀⠟⠓⠀⠀⠙⠛⠃⠛⠛⠃⠀⠠⠀⠛⠃⠀⠠⢈⠀⠛⠛⠃⠀⠂⡐⢀⠂ ⠰⣌⣰⣡⣢⣖⡲⣖⡴⣢⢖⣟⢷⣖⣲⡜⣖⠲⣭⢻⣕⣲⣚⡴⣤⣖⣺⡂⢀⠀⠠⢀⠀⡀⠀⠄⡀⢂⠐⡀⠄⠠⠀⠄⢂⠠⠐⡁⠠⠐⡈⢐⠀⣂⠐⣀⠂⡄⢠⠀⡀⠄⡀⠄⡈⠄⠡⢀⠀⠠⠀⡀⠄⠐⠠⢀⡀⠄⠠⡀⢂⠐⡀⠂⠌⡀⠄⡐⠠⠐⡀⠠⠀⠄⡀⠠⠐⡀⢀⠠⠀⡀⠄⢀⠂⠡⠀⠄⡐⢀⠂⠄⡀⢀⠠⢀⠁⠄⠂⠌ ⢂⠌⡹⠓⢧⣚⠷⡧⢽⡹⣎⢯⡟⣮⢿⡬⡺⢽⣱⡷⡾⣿⣿⣿⣾⣜⡿⢷⣤⠈⣁⠂⠌⡐⢉⠐⠰⢀⠒⠠⢈⠔⠉⡐⢂⢂⠱⢀⠃⠅⠒⡈⠔⡠⠃⡄⢒⠈⢢⠑⡤⠡⠐⡠⠁⡌⠰⡀⡉⠤⠁⠔⡈⠌⡐⠂⠐⠈⠄⡑⢂⡑⢠⠃⢂⠔⢂⡐⠡⡑⢠⠑⠨⡐⠄⣁⠒⠈⢄⠂⠅⡰⠈⠄⠌⢂⠉⡐⠠⠂⠌⡐⢈⠐⢂⠄⡉⢄⠱⣨ ⠌⡒⢤⠉⠆⡌⠙⠞⡥⠷⠩⣞⢝⡦⣫⠝⣯⢒⡳⣼⠱⣞⢭⣞⡷⢿⣼⣻⢿⣿⣆⠈⡔⡈⢄⠃⡒⢨⢀⠃⢆⠨⡐⢁⠆⡂⠔⡨⠐⡌⣁⠒⡌⠤⡑⢌⠢⡉⢆⠱⣀⠣⠜⢠⢁⠢⢡⠐⡐⠢⡑⠌⠰⢠⢁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠘⠀⢎⠰⡈⠆⡄⢃⠄⣃⠌⢒⠠⠒⡄⡘⢌⠠⢊⠔⡠⢑⡈⠆⣁⠒⡈⠥⡈⠔⢨⠐⡌⣐⣂⡔⣨⣶⣿ ⣾⡟⣶⣋⡒⡌⡱⢘⠤⢣⠑⣄⠊⡜⠨⣉⢚⡩⢑⠮⢛⠸⣣⢞⣜⠳⠝⡓⢋⠛⠛⠷⠶⡒⠤⡑⡐⢂⠌⢢⠌⡂⠜⡠⢂⠱⡈⡔⢡⡐⢢⠡⢰⢁⠒⡌⢡⠜⣠⢃⡄⢣⢊⡅⢢⠑⡄⠣⢌⠡⠂⠉⠂⠁⠢⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠤⠃⠜⡰⡈⢆⡘⢠⢎⡰⢁⠣⣐⠡⢂⡑⢂⡌⡐⢢⠐⡌⢄⠢⣁⠆⡱⢈⢢⢁⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣛⣿ ⣭⡛⡽⢿⡷⣜⢰⣩⢂⢇⡩⢄⠣⡌⢱⡀⢣⠰⣁⠚⡄⡓⠤⢊⡔⡩⡘⢄⠣⡘⢌⡡⢃⠔⡡⠆⠅⠃⠚⡄⢪⠐⡉⠴⣭⡆⠱⢈⠆⡌⣅⢊⡅⣊⠱⢌⢢⡉⢦⣈⠒⡥⢊⠬⣑⢊⡔⠃⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⠢⡍⢒⠤⣡⠋⡴⣁⢎⠰⣌⠡⢂⡅⢣⠘⡄⢣⠑⡢⢜⣴⣦⡁⣾⣿⣻⢳⢯⣟⡵⣻ ⢠⢒⡱⢊⡔⣊⠖⣡⠏⡘⡴⣉⠞⣌⠣⡜⣡⠓⡌⠳⡰⢉⢎⠥⡒⡱⡘⣌⠲⡉⢆⠲⣉⢚⡀⢲⣶⡀⢬⣤⣥⣬⡖⣠⣿⡇⡘⢌⡜⡰⢂⠣⡘⢤⠋⣆⠣⢜⠢⣌⠳⡘⡜⠦⢡⠣⣌⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠡⢈⠐⡀⠀⠱⡘⣌⠒⠁⠙⡔⡡⢎⡱⢌⢣⠣⣘⠥⢚⣌⠥⡙⠄⣿⣿⢿⣏⣿⢿⡿⣯⣛⢾⡵⣻ ⢠⠇⡧⣩⠖⣍⠺⡔⣩⠓⢦⡱⢚⡴⢣⡓⡤⢛⣌⢳⡡⢏⡎⣖⢱⢣⡱⢌⢣⠝⣨⠲⣡⢎⠲⡄⢻⣿⣆⢻⣿⣿⡇⣿⡿⠅⣸⡴⡶⠒⡥⡂⣝⠢⡝⣤⠫⡜⡱⡌⢧⣙⠀⠀⠈⡳⡌⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠄⡀⠀⠀⢳⠌⢀⡀⢤⠓⣜⢢⢭⡞⡆⣋⡰⣾⣾⣿⣷⣶⡾⣿⡿⢯⡿⡜⡭⢖⡳⡜⢧⣹⢳ ⢢⠝⡦⢱⣋⢦⠳⣜⡡⢏⠶⡱⣍⢲⢣⡝⡲⣥⢊⡇⢶⣉⠈⠈⢁⡳⢜⡬⢲⡩⣒⠵⢊⡤⠶⠶⠤⢩⢉⣈⣈⡡⢤⠤⣌⠶⣒⡲⡄⡏⡔⣣⠸⣡⠓⡦⢛⡴⢣⡝⡲⢬⡹⡜⣥⣀⠙⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⡥⡸⡜⣜⢪⠳⣌⠞⡬⣛⠴⣙⢥⡊⢭⣒⡒⢮⠭⠭⣕⠫⣖⠹⡜⣣⠽⣙⠞⣰⢫ ⡘⡎⣕⢣⡇⣎⢳⢬⡓⣭⡚⡵⢬⡓⢮⠴⣙⠶⣩⠞⠑⠊⠀⠀⠓⠣⡝⢬⢣⡕⡅⢰⣒⢖⡻⣌⠿⡥⢏⠶⣬⠹⣍⠷⣎⡝⣮⡱⡇⢬⠱⢆⠸⠀⢀⠵⢋⣜⣡⡾⡴⢧⣲⠴⣤⢌⣉⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⢣⢧⡹⢴⢣⢏⠶⣹⠸⣥⢫⡜⢦⣹⢒⡦⡝⣎⠞⣥⣋⠞⡴⢫⡕⢦⡛⣬⠹⣥⢚ ⠸⣅⡏⢮⡳⣙⢎⢮⡕⢦⡝⣜⢣⡝⣫⠞⡍⠋⢀⠠⠀⠐⠀⠀⢂⠐⡄⠉⢶⡹⠞⠸⣘⢮⣓⠽⠊⡱⢉⠞⡰⠉⠈⡑⢦⡙⣆⠻⡴⢉⠞⡸⠈⡔⢋⡴⣛⣮⡽⢶⣫⢟⢮⡻⣝⢮⣛⡽⣫⡳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣮⢱⣎⡵⣋⠞⣬⠳⣥⢛⢦⢣⡛⣎⠶⣙⡲⡝⣬⢛⡴⣩⠞⣍⢳⡜⣣⡝⢦⣛⠴⢫ ⠱⣎⡵⢫⡕⣫⢞⢺⡜⣣⢽⡘⢧⢺⡱⠏⠀⡐⠀⡀⠄⠁⡈⠀⠄⢂⠈⢆⠀⢧⡀⠀⡏⠶⣉⢆⡀⢡⢉⠦⢡⢃⠄⣱⢣⡝⣬⢳⣹⢈⡞⡁⢂⣴⡻⣜⡻⢖⡻⣏⡽⣛⢾⢳⠯⣞⢧⡏⢷⡽⣎⡷⣢⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡔⡯⢶⡹⣍⡛⣖⢫⡼⡹⢎⡳⠽⣌⠻⡴⣓⡹⢦⢫⠖⣧⡛⣜⢣⡞⣥⠻⡜⢮⡝⣫ ⢱⢎⡧⣻⡜⣧⢞⡳⣜⢧⢳⡝⣧⢣⠟⠁⡐⠀⢀⠀⠄⠂⣀⠐⡀⢂⠐⡈⢆⠘⢠⠇⣙⢧⡓⣎⠼⣡⢎⡜⣥⠚⠜⣁⠓⢚⡴⣫⡜⡆⠕⣠⢯⡶⣝⡾⣝⡯⣷⠻⣜⡻⣮⢷⣻⡜⡿⣼⢳⡞⣼⢳⡍⣯⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠠⠀⠄⠠⡀⠀⠈⠉⠃⠷⣱⢛⡼⣣⠾⠙⠧⡝⡧⣏⢿⡱⣝⠮⠳⠏⠾⠱⠯⢜⣳⢚⡵⣫⡝⢾⡸⢵ ⠬⣇⠷⣱⢏⡶⢭⡞⡼⣎⢷⣚⢦⡏⡏⠀⠀⠄⢂⣀⡴⢮⡝⢧⣄⠂⠐⠠⠈⠄⡦⣄⢸⢲⢽⡸⣝⡖⠋⢀⡀⢬⠤⡔⣆⡻⣜⣳⣚⡅⢰⢯⣞⡵⢯⡼⢧⡿⠀⣀⡷⣻⣜⣧⢷⠋⢹⣞⡷⣝⣮⣳⡝⢶⡃⠀⠀⠀⢀⠐⡈⢄⠂⡡⢊⠁⠤⢉⠐⣂⠰⢀⠈⠋⣶⢹⠆⠀⣠⣓⠧⠛⠊⠁⡀⠀⡄⢠⡒⠠⠀⠂⠌⠙⢖⡧⣛⡮⣵⢫ ⢜⡣⣏⢳⣏⡞⣵⢺⠵⣎⠷⣙⢮⣝⣣⠄⠀⢰⠧⣏⡞⣧⢛⢧⡞⣅⠀⠁⠁⠂⡷⣼⠘⣬⢳⡳⢞⠶⠬⠳⠞⠙⣚⡘⢉⣩⢨⡅⢀⠀⣯⣞⢼⢫⠝⠛⠩⠹⡾⣝⠾⠳⠭⠮⢟⣀⣴⡳⡽⣏⣾⣡⡏⢷⡂⡤⠀⢀⠂⢌⠐⡠⠘⣀⠂⠌⡐⢈⠒⠤⡁⠆⡌⣀⠈⠏⢀⡾⡱⠉⠀⢠⠐⡠⢈⠡⣐⠣⢀⠃⡐⠢⡀⠑⡀⠙⣼⣱⢣⣟ ⢸⡇⣏⡳⣎⡽⣪⢝⣫⡜⡯⣝⡺⢬⠁⠀⢀⡯⣞⣥⣛⡼⣛⠮⣝⡯⠀⠀⠈⣶⢳⡜⣦⠥⣆⠀⠶⡲⢊⢴⢫⡝⡞⡷⣛⡥⠀⣿⣆⡼⢸⢎⡟⢀⡖⣯⡄⣠⠧⠀⠀⠒⠒⠂⠉⢛⡼⢯⠗⣟⢮⣓⣏⢧⣓⠀⡀⢂⠌⡠⠊⠄⡡⠄⠊⡄⠑⡈⠜⡠⢑⠈⠀⢄⠠⠀⢾⡺⠁⢀⡐⠂⡅⠢⠁⡰⡌⢁⠎⠠⠐⡁⠐⡁⠀⢂⠐⣧⢻⡼ ⢸⡜⡧⣝⢎⠷⣹⢎⡶⣹⢳⡹⢞⡇⠀⠀⣼⡱⢏⡶⡹⢞⡵⢻⡼⡹⠇⠀⠀⢸⡣⣽⢪⢏⡷⣤⢀⣴⡹⡞⣧⠻⡼⠍⠀⠀⠀⠓⠫⠝⡈⣿⣣⣄⡿⣼⣹⢽⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⣏⠀⣀⣤⠉⢺⡹⠞⡶⣙⠂⢐⠠⢂⠡⠌⠒⠠⠌⠡⡀⠃⢌⠠⠑⡌⠰⡀⠎⠠⢁⠈⡷⠀⠂⢄⠃⠐⡁⡰⡱⠀⠈⠀⡰⢁⠰⠁⡘⡀⠠⠀⢹⢣⣟ ⢮⣜⣳⣪⣟⣺⣑⣫⠞⠁⠉⠉⠋⠀⠀⠠⠓⠾⠹⣺⡙⣷⣚⢧⡝⣧⢇⠀⠁⠀⡟⣲⡝⣎⡇⡟⣮⣳⡽⢉⡸⠁⠁⠀⡀⠂⠠⠀⢀⠀⠀⠈⠷⣩⢷⣞⡷⠃⠀⢀⡠⣔⡲⢘⡷⣭⢟⣟⣾⠃⡮⢽⣹⢚⠁⠀⡐⠂⠔⠂⢌⠂⠅⡘⠠⢁⠜⡀⢂⠥⢀⡑⠈⡄⠀⢂⠀⣟⠀⠌⡐⡀⠀⢀⡱⠁⠆⠠⡐⠀⠀⢂⠡⠐⠡⢀⠁⢸⢳⡞ ⣿⣾⣿⡿⣿⣽⠋⠁⠀⡀⠄⡐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠴⠎⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠉⠁⠙⠊⢆⢳⡱⢏⡰⠥⠀⠀⠌⠀⠀⠐⠀⠈⠄⠀⠁⠄⠀⠣⢯⡶⡽⣳⡶⣤⡬⣁⣉⣀⣹⣜⣯⣞⢶⣖⢻⡕⡮⢃⠀⠐⠠⠑⡈⠌⡄⡘⠠⢁⠆⡁⢂⠌⠄⢢⠐⢠⠡⠐⢄⠢⠀⡯⡄⠐⠠⡐⠡⠎⠁⠜⢀⠡⠐⠀⠄⠂⡄⢃⠐⠀⠂⣜⠶⠉ ⡇⠞⢿⡀⠀⠙⠀⠀⠂⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠐⢠⢂⠀⠀⠨⣭⢓⣵⠂⠀⠁⠠⠁⠀⠀⠠⠁⢀⠈⠀⠂⠠⠀⠘⠍⠀⠃⣹⢧⡻⣕⣻⢼⣣⣏⡶⣚⢯⣜⠳⢊⣴⢋⡀⠈⡐⢈⠰⠀⠆⡠⠑⢂⡐⠌⠠⠌⡐⠡⠈⠄⠂⡉⠀⠆⢠⢧⢳⠈⠐⡰⢢⠀⡌⠠⠀⠄⠠⠌⠠⢁⠰⠀⠀⠀⠐⠁⠀⠀ ⣷⣝⠬⢀⣴⣄⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠄⠀⢣⣝⣺⠀⢀⠂⠁⡀⠁⠀⠀⠄⢀⠠⠀⢂⠁⠀⠈⠀⠀⢈⡚⠳⠭⣛⢞⣳⣙⠦⠛⢉⡄⠤⡞⡵⡪⠉⢆⠀⢀⠂⠄⢉⡐⠄⠡⢂⠐⣈⠁⠒⡈⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⡼⡸⣍⠖⣄⠑⠃⡔⠠⢁⠌⠰⢁⠘⡄⠡⠌⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⢻⣯⡀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠅⠀⠂⠒⠚⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣈⣾⢳⡄⠀⢀⠂⢀⠀⠢⣤⣬⣤⣤⡤⠀⠀⠌⠀⠀⢠⣎⢵⣫⢖⣦⢲⠄⠀⠒⠈⠋⠀⠀⠉⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠊⡁⢂⠡⠄⢊⠡⠀⢠⣤⡀⠀⠀⢀⡼⣱⠓⣎⠷⠹⢷⣂⣀⡁⠢⠌⠒⠠⠒⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠈⠀⠀ ⣿⣷⣿⣹⠯⣿⣧⡀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⢠⠖⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⠀⠀⠂⠀⡀⠀⠀⢀⠈⠀⠠⠀⠂⢀⣹⣎⣟⣦⠀⠀⠐⠠⢀⠀⠸⣻⣿⠟⠁⠀⠁⠀⠀⡀⢸⣜⠲⣇⡇⠈⠙⠂⠀⡀⠀⢀⠐⡀⠀⠐⠠⠁⠐⠀⠌⠀⠂⠠⠁⣰⡟⠀⠡⠈⠄⢂⠡⠀⠃⠈⠀⣠⢞⡴⢣⠟⣼⠳⡄⠀⠘⣡⠠⢾⡇⠸⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠈⠀⠀⠠⠀ ⡝⣾⡻⠃⠤⡈⢻⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⡋⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⢀⠚⢬⡄⢾⢞⣖⡄⠈⠄⠠⠐⡀⠀⡀⠀⠄⠁⠠⠀⠀⡐⡸⣬⠳⠝⠆⠀⡀⠀⠐⠠⠐⠀⠠⠀⠈⠐⠠⠁⠀⠌⡀⠂⢀⠂⣰⡟⠀⠀⢂⠡⢈⠠⠀⠂⢀⠴⣋⠶⣳⡜⢧⣛⢦⡛⣴⠰⣿⡏⠸⠘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠠⠐⠀⠀ ⡳⣜⢡⢋⣴⣎⢠⠙⡀⣸⣦⡠⢀⡄⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠡⠄⡀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠰⠻⢀⡳⠜⣌⢫⢼⡛⠡⠀⠁⡀⢀⡀⠄⠡⢀⠱⠈⠀⢀⠀⡗⣧⠀⠀⠀⡀⠐⢈⠀⠁⠠⠀⠁⢂⠀⠠⠁⢀⠂⠐⠀⡀⠄⣰⡟⠀⠀⢄⠠⢀⠰⠲⠌⠙⠰⠚⠱⠞⠱⣎⠷⣩⠮⠝⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠐⠀⢀⠐⠀ ⣿⣆⣣⣾⣿⣟⣗⡀⣱⣿⣛⣷⠈⡐⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡅⠂⡖⣶⢢⠘⠽⠤⠖⠲⢙⠒⡋⠂⠎⠃⣌⢲⡀⠁⠐⠂⠐⠈⠁⠈⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⣟⠲⣄⠈⢀⠀⠐⠀⡀⠀⠁⠂⠁⡀⠂⠀⢈⠀⠠⠁⠀⠄⣰⡟⠠⠄⠈⠀⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠑⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⢀⠂⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⢿⣿⣹⢾⣿⢿⣿⠷⠋⠁⣀⣁⢃⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡤⠥⠴⢒⢚⠪⢍⠩⢍⠫⠙⠭⣉⡀⠀⠀⠣⢐⡂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⢀⣏⢳⢥⢳⣀⠀⠂⠁⢀⠁⠀⠀⡁⠀⠂⠀⣀⣤⠐⠀⠁⣰⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠄⠁ ⡟⣿⣿⠟⠘⢿⣽⣿⣻⠄⢩⢱⠊⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢴⣺⣉⣀⣂⣁⣉⣂⣦⣥⣬⢤⠖⣖⡻⠽⣍⢻⣀⠀⡸⢘⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡘⢧⢞⣣⢎⡳⣄⠈⢀⠠⠈⡀⠐⠈⣠⣼⣿⠟⠀⠀⣰⡟⠀⠠⢤⢤⢤⡲⠖⠲⠒⠎⢋⡙⡙⣉⠡⡄⢀⣾⣿⣿⡟⠻⠂⣢⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠁⢹⠢⡐⡃⢆⠙⠾⠃⠈⠤⠡⠤⠄⠈⠄⠀⠀⣸⠉⠑⡄⢸⣲⢹⣟⣯⢙⠚⢳⣒⢮⣈⠠⢹⡲⣝⡧⣏⠶⡁⠀⠴⠋⣨⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢮⠹⣎⠞⣦⢫⡵⣋⠳⣄⠀⡐⠀⠙⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⣰⠏⠀⠀⠰⡀⢆⢢⡐⢎⠥⣩⠜⡡⢆⡱⢌⡒⠴⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⠟⢿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠁ ⠀⠀⢣⣾⣿⣦⡉⠔⠀⡒⢎⡱⢬⠹⡄⠂⠀⠀⢲⠀⠀⠙⠀⡧⣏⣷⣚⣿⠋⠸⣬⣓⠾⡅⢀⡷⣺⡜⣥⢫⠕⡆⠶⣫⠗⡘⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⠳⣮⣝⣦⠳⣚⡭⣛⣬⠳⣆⡀⠄⠂⢀⠂⠄⠁⣰⠏⠀⣠⡄⠱⠀⣆⢣⠜⢬⠒⣡⠚⡴⢁⠆⣣⢘⡱⢸⣯⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⣞⣿⡧⡀⠀⢰⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀ ⠀⠀⢘⣯⣟⣿⣿⣷⡄⢑⢎⡱⢪⡍⠇⠀⠀⠀⠘⡄⠀⠀⠀⠸⣱⠸⣟⡼⣧⢰⢧⠯⠾⠹⠶⢫⠵⣛⡼⣡⢛⠀⢳⢧⢃⠇⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠇⢛⣛⠻⠷⠶⠮⢵⣾⠉⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⢀⠂⣰⠏⠀⣰⠉⡇⠠⠃⢌⡒⡘⣂⠫⢔⡩⡐⢩⠘⡄⢣⠰⢸⣿⣿⡿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⢀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⠻⣾⣽⣻⢽⠟⢂⠠⠔⠆⣒⣤⣌⡀⠀⠀⠹⡀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣧⢻⢽⡷⡋⠡⠖⠚⠉⠀⠀⠁⠷⡸⣕⡋⠰⡈⢃⠌⠠⠌⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⢠⣠⣤⣶⣿⣽⣿⣿⡿⠷⠶⢒⣒⣲⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠏⠀⠀⢡⣴⣇⠠⢃⠐⠦⡑⢢⢍⢢⠱⢌⠡⢎⠰⣁⠚⡈⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⢉⣙⠛⠟⢋⣤⣶⠸⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂ ⠀⠀⠀⠘⡈⠻⡽⢋⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠙⣄⠀⠀⠀⠱⢧⢻⡖⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⡀⢒⡜⢐⡡⠔⠁⠢⣡⣶⡀⠀⣀⣠⣴⣾⡿⠿⠛⢛⣉⣩⣥⢴⣲⣾⣏⣿⣽⣳⢷⢸⣶⡄⣰⠏⠀⠀⠢⢀⣿⠯⠐⠀⣈⠁⡉⠤⢤⠀⢣⠘⡆⠎⢆⠥⠚⡄⣟⣿⣿⣿⣇⣀⡹⠸⠻⠿⠿⠛⠂⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀ ⠀⠀⠐⠀⢌⠡⢀⣞⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠓⡀⠀⠈⠑⠦⣀⣀⣈⠫⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠞⠥⠛⡀⠎⡐⠤⠔⣠⠉⠞⡋⠤⢒⣛⣉⡭⣤⢶⣦⠀⣤⣿⣮⢷⣯⡟⠉⢦⠭⡑⢾⠁⠀⢘⠟⠐⠋⣴⠶⠛⠈⠋⣀⡐⢬⠱⠜⡬⢱⡉⢖⡂⢈⠦⠱⠘⠌⠒⠑⠀⠱⣻⡽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⢀⠠⠀ ⠀⠈⢀⠀⠘⠇⣈⢩⣉⣩⣉⣉⢍⡩⢤⠰⠐⡊⣱⣥⡀⠠⠀⢠⣤⡰⠄⠇⠈⠂⢀⣠⢶⣭⢫⢯⠙⣡⠾⠹⠞⢽⡃⡶⣖⣾⣏⣿⢶⣏⣟⣻⢮⡷⣿⠉⢾⣝⣯⢾⡅⠀⠘⣺⠭⡌⣦⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣔⢊⢻⣦⠙⡬⡑⣥⢊⡕⡂⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣞⣷⢻⣭⢿⡿⣿⢯⣿⣻⡽⣟⡾⣟⡟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠄ ⠀⠀⠂⡀⠐⠀⣾⣶⣷⣦⣷⣾⡶⠖⠰⠿⢟⡓⣈⠤⣆⠀⠌⠀⢿⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢉⣈⣀⢦⡀⢡⡲⢶⣀⠙⠀⢽⣟⢮⣟⢾⣻⠞⡩⣉⠻⣞⢯⠀⣡⣽⢾⡟⣟⣦⣍⣃⣛⣠⣟⡷⣶⠆⠁⠄⠀⠀⢠⢯⣽⣦⡡⠙⢷⡔⢑⢢⢃⣎⡱⠠⢁⢀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠈⠙⠷⢿⣻⠛⠙⢫⢾⣻⡽⠿⠛⡉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠠⠀ ⠀⠈⠠⠀⠄⠘⡰⢐⠤⣒⡐⢢⡔⠆⢮⡑⣎⠂⠈⡳⢌⠀⠒⠣⠌⣁⢀⠀⠀⠁⡀⢠⢿⡞⣥⢗⡺⠄⠙⠏⠀⠀⠀⢈⠍⠻⣞⣻⠇⡎⡴⣩⢇⡏⢠⡆⣦⣌⡙⢛⣋⣅⠠⠰⡷⣟⡾⣿⠽⡧⢀⠀⢠⡀⡜⣨⠳⣮⡻⣎⠈⠻⣦⡃⠋⣀⢤⠀⠂⠄⠂⢄⠁⠂⠀⠀⠀⣁⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⣀⣭⠁⢀⠀⡈⠇⠀⡀⢀⠠⠐⠀⠠⠁ ⢠⡁⣆⡰⣠⡀⠧⡙⠲⢤⡙⠦⣍⠀⢐⠺⣔⠣⣤⢹⡘⡆⠀⠐⣈⣀⣂⣅⡒⣐⣠⣀⠙⢾⣱⢾⣁⠀⢒⣀⣂⣐⣊⣁⢂⣀⠹⣾⣇⠳⠼⣡⢾⣳⣄⡁⠹⠿⠇⠸⠿⢋⣠⢶⣟⣾⣽⡡⣋⡷⠈⢛⠿⠇⠃⣃⢖⡙⢷⡟⠓⠁⠘⠷⠌⠚⢀⠄⣠⡘⣀⣂⢌⣠⠥⡴⢈⣀⣀⣠⠁⠀⣠⣤⣶⣴⣤⣤⣤⣀⠒⠀⠤⣐⣠⢂⣡⢂⣁⢌ ⢱⢫⠵⡹⢖⡃⠵⣈⢓⢦⡙⠲⣌⠉⢪⡱⣌⠳⡌⠳⣘⠆⢹⠀⡸⢇⠾⣌⠿⡜⡧⠉⠶⠯⠼⠦⠓⢋⣠⣈⠳⢞⡱⢯⡽⡜⠃⣽⣞⢷⣾⣽⣳⡟⣾⡽⣻⢷⣖⣢⣟⣿⣞⣿⠮⠷⠚⠛⣉⠤⡚⡭⣜⡃⢸⢀⠫⢖⠤⡱⣀⣾⢦⡂⡠⣤⡙⡄⢳⣩⢓⡹⣊⣓⢏⡝⣫⢜⡣⢉⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⡿⣟⡷⠆⢁⢧⣫⡜⡭⢎⡽ ⢂⠧⡓⣍⠖⣍⠲⡡⢎⡢⢱⡙⡌⢦⣀⠘⠌⢃⠰⣰⢉⡖⠀⡬⢍⣍⠫⣜⣩⠉⣴⣲⣲⣖⣒⡶⢯⠏⠶⠊⠃⣈⠡⡴⡄⢌⣶⠟⣉⠻⣎⣷⡍⢋⡉⢛⠛⠛⠒⢋⠙⡡⠤⢄⡆⠐⢯⡱⠎⠧⡝⣲⢡⡝⠀⡌⠎⣍⢲⡁⠈⠫⣏⣷⣄⠊⠻⡄⠰⠰⢎⡔⣣⠜⡪⢴⠱⠎⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣯⣷⣿⣾⣫⣭⠋⢠⡜⡜⠦⡖⡼⣘⠧⣜ ⢨⢃⠷⣨⠳⡜⠀⡱⢨⡑⢣⠜⣙⠦⢙⡒⣜⠣⠓⣁⣭⡶⢠⣤⣶⣶⣶⣶⣦⣤⣤⣍⣁⠀⠠⢐⡀⣌⡀⢖⢪⡱⠀⠁⢣⠌⠻⠦⠥⠾⠛⢃⠐⢣⢔⡒⢊⠳⡘⠎⡅⠲⢍⠓⣜⢣⠄⠁⠠⠜⡥⠓⠦⡍⡇⠰⠩⣌⠣⠜⣄⠄⡘⠋⠛⣠⡐⠥⢘⡍⢮⡜⢦⠹⢥⢣⠏⣰⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣯⣟⣿⡳⣯⠁⡘⢦⠹⡸⣑⢎⡱⢊⡓⣬ ⢠⢋⡜⣂⠳⣘⠃⢱⣧⣭⣥⣭⣄⢀⣀⣵⣶⠾⢟⡛⣍⠒⡀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡦⠌⠐⠀⣜⢢⡓⢦⠲⣬⡙⢶⠀⠐⣃⠸⡜⠌⡅⢊⠜⠭⣒⠱⠎⡔⠫⢎⠸⠤⠭⡜⠤⢏⠭⠔⢫⢅⡓⠜⡄⠑⢢⡙⡜⢢⡙⣒⠬⠻⣵⠻⣎⠀⠏⡖⣘⠦⢛⢬⠃⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣾⣷⣿⣯⢿⠃⢠⠉⠖⡩⠱⠌⠦⣑⢃⠞⢰ ⢌⡣⠞⣌⢇⢣⢣⠐⠤⠩⠩⠭⠍⢠⠳⠐⠦⣙⣂⣭⣴⡟⣱⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣾⣶⣌⠒⢙⡎⠳⡆⡝⢣⢄⠸⡌⢧⡙⠥⣽⢫⣎⠳⣤⠧⡜⣌⠱⣈⠎⡥⢓⠬⣙⡌⢎⡙⢆⠎⣌⠳⡘⠄⠱⡘⡔⣣⠒⡥⢎⡳⣈⠻⣽⠀⠣⡜⣄⠋⢈⠐⡐⠛⠻⠿⠽⣾⣿⣿⣻⣿⣾⢾⣿⠀⠢⣉⠜⡡⢃⠎⡑⢄⠪⡘⠤ ⢬⡑⡏⢜⡊⠥⢊⡄⠹⣷⣶⣶⣶⣶⠖⢻⣿⠿⠟⠋⢩⣶⣿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡶⢠⣤⣻⣿⣷⣄⠘⠡⢎⡑⠎⠬⡑⡜⢂⡜⠢⣗⡳⢬⠹⡔⢳⡙⣊⢇⠰⢊⠔⡡⢊⠤⡐⢆⡘⠢⡑⠢⢁⠓⡌⡂⠑⠐⠃⠉⠈⠀⠀⠁⠁⠉⠀⠱⢐⢢⠁⠢⡍⡄⣯⣽⡆⠠⠤⣀⠄⣉⠉⢉⠙⠃⠀⠛⠤⠚⡔⢃⠚⣐⠊⡔⣡⢊ ⠤⠳⡌⢣⠝⡌⠧⠜⡑⢀⣮⣭⣭⣤⣤⠀⠶⢺⣿⣷⡈⡙⠃⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣛⡅⣌⡛⣿⣿⣷⣹⣷⡄⠱⡈⠭⡑⢌⡒⠡⠆⡵⠎⢧⣍⡚⡍⢦⡱⢡⠎⡜⠨⢆⠥⣩⠒⠱⢌⣦⣡⣉⣁⠉⠒⠴⣡⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢤⠒⠀⠓⠸⠐⠶⠤⢄⡃⠧⣐⠩⠤⡉⠆⡐⠈⡔⠈⢆⠩⢌⠬⡑⡌⠒⣌⠰⢠ ⠰⠡⡌⡡⢎⡰⢡⠋⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢛⠀⡛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡿⣿⣦⠘⠤⡉⢆⠬⠱⡘⣼⢺⡱⢆⡩⡘⢆⡣⢏⠰⣈⠕⡊⠂⣠⣶⣿⢿⣾⣿⢿⠿⣛⣷⠦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠣⣍⠣⡓⠆⠀⢀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠈⠑⠒⠉⠂⠄⠃⠀⣘⠨⡘⢌⠢⡑⢌⠱⡈⠜⡠ ⢌⠣⣌⠱⣂⣑⠂⠰⢣⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⢘⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣳⡿⣇⠀⡱⢈⠆⡓⢌⡷⠀⡱⢋⡆⠘⣬⡑⡇⡜⣤⠊⣠⣾⣿⣟⣿⣿⣾⣿⠃⣾⣿⣿⣅⠈⠑⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢢⠱⣈⠆⠀⡀⠀⠀⡁⠂⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⡒⠤⣃⠱⢊⠥⡘⠤⢃⠜⡡⢒ ⡂⢗⢢⠓⡖⠎⢰⣦⡈⢣⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⢀⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠸⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢷⣿⣽⡆⠐⡁⠎⡔⢪⡝⣧⡙⠧⠒⢘⢠⢹⠐⡰⠀⣴⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣆⢻⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⢆⠱⢨⠀⠀⡐⢀⠐⠠⠈⠄⠀⠡⠐⠈⠀⠰⡑⢊⠔⡩⠘⠤⠣⡑⢪⠘⡔⢨ ⠐⡌⢢⠑⡌⠀⣿⣶⠶⠀⠁⣾⣿⣿⠛⢿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠍⡀⢶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣶⠁⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣾⢯⡿⣿⡀⡁⢎⠰⡹⡆⠲⣶⣶⡿⠃⡆⢯⠐⠁⣸⣽⣷⣿⣿⣾⣷⣿⠁⠻⣿⣷⣍⡃⠈⢟⣴⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠃⢎⠰⢡⠀⠀⠄⡀⠈⠀⠂⠀⢀⠐⡀⠠⠀⠰⠘⠤⢊⠔⡩⢂⠕⡌⢢⢘⡐⢢ ⠐⡄⢣⠘⡐⢰⣿⣿⣿⠿⠄⠙⣴⣿⣷⣶⣤⣬⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⠉⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⡿⣵⠂⠰⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡾⠉⠓⢻⡇⠐⡌⠲⣭⢽⡠⠙⠛⡡⢜⡰⡃⠜⠀⣿⣽⣾⣿⣿⣽⠙⠻⢦⣶⣿⡿⣿⣷⣴⣾⣿⡿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⢀⠩⢂⡍⢢⡐⠤⡀⠀⠐⠠⠀⠌⠀⡀⠀⠄⠀⠣⡉⢆⡡⢊⠔⡡⢂⠜⡠⠒⡌⠰ ⠰⡈⠦⡉⠄⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠄⠋⣴⣿⣿⣿⠏⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠘⣿⡿⠋⢸⣯⡔⠰⣮⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣽⢶⡄⠈⢿⠀⠂⢭⢎⡳⡌⢯⡱⣙⠦⣱⠃⢨⠀⡿⠞⢻⡿⣿⣻⡀⠳⠶⠬⣍⣛⡛⠻⠿⠿⠟⣟⣿⣻⠀⡡⠃⠀⡀⠆⢒⠈⠰⠁⠀⠀⡄⢃⠜⡀⠀⠂⢁⠀⠂⠀⠔⢂⠔⡡⠒⡄⢒⠡⡘⢄⠡⢊⠔⡡⢘⠰ ⠠⡑⢢⠑⡂⢸⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣻⠄⢋⣼⣿⣿⡄⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡿⠋⣠⠀⣾⣟⣡⡀⣮⣽⣿⣿⣿⣟⡷⣯⡿⣿⣲⣤⠀⢐⡪⢏⡳⡙⢦⠓⡍⢞⡄⠈⠆⡄⠃⣠⡼⣿⣟⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠛⢃⣶⣿⡿⡿⠀⡐⢁⠢⡑⡈⢆⠩⠄⡀⢠⠑⡌⠢⣘⠀⠀⠡⠀⠂⠀⠘⡌⢢⠘⠐⠁⠘⢠⠃⠜⡠⢃⡌⠢⢑⠌⢒ ⠠⡑⢢⠑⠤⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠧⠈⢟⣹⣿⣷⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⢋⣠⣾⣿⠀⡏⣿⡟⡂⠨⣭⣿⣿⣿⡽⣟⡷⣿⣳⢿⣯⠀⠌⡿⣹⠴⣙⢦⡹⢜⢢⡙⢠⠀⣀⠈⢷⣻⣮⡻⣿⣿⡀⢀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣷⣿⠃⠠⠌⡌⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⠀⠀⢀⠣⣘⠰⠄⠀⠠⠁⠐⠀⠁⠈⠔⠡⣉⠀⠄⢪⠐⡘⠌⡔⡁⠦⠑⡌⡘⠤ ⠠⡑⢢⠘⡰⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⡿⠂⠹⢛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠏⢉⣠⣶⣿⣿⣿⡟⢀⣿⣿⣿⡟⡀⠩⣽⣿⡿⣽⣿⡽⣷⢯⣟⡇⠀⢂⢷⡹⢦⠱⢎⡔⣋⠶⢉⠰⡈⠔⡠⠈⢳⣭⢿⣮⣝⣷⠀⠳⣹⠦⠄⣠⣮⣿⣗⡿⠃⢀⡘⠤⡑⠌⣂⠱⡈⢆⡑⢂⠀⠃⠦⠑⠂⠀⠐⡈⠐⠀⠀⠉⠄⠃⠀⠀⠌⡄⢡⠘⡈⠄⠄⠡⠊⠄⡑⢈ ⠠⡑⢌⠢⡑⢂⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢗⠰⠟⡛⠛⠟⠋⢉⣠⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣾⡗⠀⢭⣽⣿⢿⣭⣟⣯⢿⡽⠀⡘⣀⠢⡹⠌⠓⠉⡈⢁⠙⠀⠣⠌⣂⠑⠢⠄⠙⠻⣮⣟⡾⣶⣤⣁⣥⣞⡷⣯⡽⠎⠁⠀⠂⠒⠐⠁⣈⣀⣡⣤⣤⣮⣥⣶⣤⣤⠐⠀⠀⡁⠠⠐⠈⠀⢃⠒⠤⡉⠜⡰⢈⠆⡘⠤⡉⠌⡅⢣⠘⡰⢈ ⠠⡑⠊⡔⠡⢊⠀⢿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣷⠀⡾⢿⣦⡈⠻⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡛⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⡇⠀⢩⣽⣻⣻⣽⡾⠻⠃⠀⠥⠠⠑⠀⡠⠈⠠⠀⠠⠈⠐⡀⠁⠀⣉⡑⠈⠱⢀⡈⠑⣟⣷⣻⢏⠻⣞⣿⣻⠀⢠⠊⠀⣠⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⢛⣩⡄⠀⠠⢀⠁⠄⠀⠀⡅⢊⠤⡑⠌⡄⢡⠊⠔⡡⢘⡐⠌⡄⢣⠐⢌ ⠐⣀⠃⡌⠱⡈⠆⠈⢱⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣶⣀⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣫⢿⣷⡷⠀⢠⣴⣿⣿⠅⠀⠈⠹⠤⡄⠒⠠⠀⠂⠓⡈⠑⢊⠀⢀⠊⡐⢀⠈⢱⢢⠀⠀⠀⣯⡿⣿⣬⢱⣿⠛⣿⠀⠂⣀⠠⣙⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣉⣩⣭⣤⣶⣾⣟⣿⣧⠀⠐⢀⡀⠀⠀⠘⡄⢃⢂⠱⡈⠔⡁⢎⢂⡑⠢⠘⠰⠈⠤⢉⠰ ⠐⡄⠣⢌⠱⡈⢌⠱⡀⢸⢿⣿⣷⣦⠈⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣄⣉⠙⠋⣁⣤⣿⣿⡿⣟⣿⠾⣽⣻⣞⣷⣷⠂⠠⣶⣿⠁⠐⠀⠂⢸⠜⢀⠂⡡⠑⢂⠔⡡⢂⠘⡄⢢⠁⡌⠀⢸⡒⠠⠁⠀⠉⢀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢐⠠⠀⣿⡻⠿⠻⣿⣿⣏⢉⠙⣿⣿⣾⢿⣾⣿⡀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⢨⠐⠌⣂⠱⢈⠆⡑⢂⠆⢌⡡⠉⢆⠩⢄⠣⢐ ⠐⡈⠅⡌⢆⠱⣈⠒⡰⢀⠙⢿⣶⡍⢨⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣳⣿⣟⣯⡿⢷⣻⣞⣯⣷⣻⡆⡐⠀⡀⢈⠠⠁⢎⡼⢀⠘⢠⠑⡈⠀⢀⠌⡰⢐⠠⢁⢈⠀⣣⠜⠠⢀⠀⠀⠄⠂⠄⠡⠘⣩⠀⠡⢀⠣⠄⢸⡇⠀⠟⢻⣿⣉⡉⠉⣿⣷⣯⣿⣷⡿⡇⠀⠀⠄⠂⢀⠂⡜⠰⡀⠦⢁⠎⡰⠡⢌⠢⡐⡉⢆⠒⢌⠒⣈ ⠠⢁⠒⡈⠆⠒⠤⡑⢄⠃⢆⡀⠉⠁⣊⣽⡿⣽⣻⣞⣷⣻⣽⣳⣯⡿⣽⣻⣽⣯⢿⣭⣿⢾⣽⢯⡷⣟⡾⣯⠏⠈⢀⠤⠁⠠⢀⠁⢎⠴⢀⠊⠄⢢⠁⠈⢄⠒⡐⠀⠐⣈⠰⠀⡥⠆⡐⠠⡀⠀⠈⡐⠈⠄⠡⠄⠠⠀⢀⠃⠆⠘⣿⢿⣄⣼⣿⣿⣷⢶⣿⢟⣯⣿⣾⢿⣿⠀⠀⠄⠐⡌⠰⡈⢆⠱⣀⠣⠌⡄⢃⠆⡰⢁⠔⡈⠆⡌⢢⠐ ⠐⢂⠡⢘⠠⣉⠐⡈⢄⠊⡄⡈⠆⣀⠉⠛⢾⣿⡽⣟⣷⢿⣳⣯⢷⡿⣽⣳⣟⣾⢿⣽⣳⣯⣟⣯⣟⡿⠋⢁⠠⡘⠤⠀⠁⠂⢀⠂⡜⠼⢀⠨⡐⠡⣀⠘⡠⠌⡐⢂⠰⡀⠃⢀⠖⡃⠄⠐⠀⠠⠄⠀⠐⠠⠀⠀⡀⢂⠌⡘⠰⠀⣏⣟⣿⡿⠩⠩⠔⠂⢀⠉⠻⣽⡿⣿⣞⠀⠀⢡⠀⠠⠑⡈⠄⡁⢂⠘⡐⠄⠣⠌⠰⠁⡌⢢⠑⡈⢆⠘ ⢀⠃⡂⢅⠒⡄⢃⡘⠄⢃⡐⠡⠌⣀⠒⡠⠄⡈⠙⠻⠯⣿⣻⣽⡿⣿⣻⢿⣞⡿⣯⣿⢽⠾⠛⠋⢁⠀⠄⠀⠣⠘⠀⠀⠀⢈⠠⠀⡜⡱⢀⢂⠑⠰⣀⠣⠐⠢⠑⠌⠄⣁⠃⢈⢮⠁⠄⠌⠀⡀⢈⠐⠄⡀⠀⢠⠑⡨⢐⡁⢃⠆⢸⡼⣿⣏⠀⠀⠀⠔⣋⣤⣶⣿⢿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⢂⠀⠁⠀⠈⡔⢂⠒⡈⠌⡑⠌⢡⠃⢌⠢⠡⠘⡄⢊ ⠀⠆⡡⢌⠂⡔⠡⠘⡌⢂⠌⡱⠈⡔⢂⠡⢒⢀⠣⡐⠠⡀⣀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⢉⠁⡀⠄⣀⠒⡈⢆⡉⢢⠡⢄⠠⠠⠡⠀⢂⠠⠁⡜⡥⢀⠢⠌⡑⠠⢀⠉⢉⠈⣁⠰⢀⠃⢨⠲⢀⠂⡘⠐⡌⢂⡉⠢⠔⢀⠂⡜⡐⠢⡘⠄⢀⠀⡿⣼⣿⣆⣤⣶⣿⣟⣿⣯⡿⣿⣿⠞⠁⠀⠀⠣⢄⢀⠢⢑⠠⢃⡘⢄⠣⡘⠌⢢⠘⡠⢃⠅⢣⠘⢠ ⢈⠂⡅⢢⠘⠤⡁⢣⠐⡌⢒⠠⢃⠔⡨⢐⠡⢊⠔⡡⢑⠰⡀⠃⠠⠘⠄⠣⠘⡄⠒⠡⢊⠄⠣⠌⠰⡈⠔⣈⠢⣁⠣⢁⠃⠀⠰⠀⠲⡅⠰⡐⢢⢁⠡⢂⠜⡠⠌⠄⠒⠌⠀⢮⡱⠀⠀⢂⠱⠈⠔⡠⢃⠀⠀⠁⠒⠄⡃⢌⠢⡀⠀⠘⠷⠿⠿⠷⠿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠉⢁⠀⢄⠂⡔⠩⠔⡊⢄⠣⠌⡒⠤⠘⡄⢢⠁⠎⡄⢣⠐⡡⠘⡄⢃⠢ ⢀⠒⡄⢢⠁⢆⠡⠂⠥⣀⢃⠰⢈⡐⡐⢈⠰⢁⠀⠀⠀⠒⠀⡀⢂⠆⡰⠠⠄⠠⠄⡐⡀⣀⠠⠐⡀⡀⢀⠀⢀⠀⠁⠠⠈⠁⠀⠀⠓⠁⠀⠠⠀⠂⠀⠂⠐⠠⢂⠰⠀⠐⠀⠠⢠⠐⡌⢄⠢⣁⠢⡐⠄⢢⠐⠤⡈⡔⠰⡀⠆⡡⢄⠢⢄⠠⢄⠀⠠⣀⠂⡅⠀⠘⠠⠊⡔⢨⠐⡅⡊⢔⡈⢆⡘⠤⣁⠣⠌⠤⡉⢆⡘⠤⡘⢄⠣⠘⠤⠘ ⢀⠒⡄⢢⠉⠆⡁⢎⠐⡀⠎⡠⠡⢄⡑⡈⢒⠨⡐⠠⠀⠀⡐⡈⢆⠰⣀⠱⢈⠡⡘⢠⠐⡄⢂⠱⢀⡘⢠⠁⠎⣈⢂⠡⡘⢐⡐⢢⠐⠄⢢⠐⡐⢂⠆⡀⠀⢄⠢⣀⠃⠆⡄⢃⢂⠔⡨⢄⠒⡠⢡⠘⡨⢄⠊⡄⠡⢌⢂⠱⠈⡔⠢⡘⠀⠉⠂⡈⠔⡠⢁⢢⠉⠀⣀⠒⡈⠤⢑⠠⡑⢂⡘⠤⣀⠣⢄⡘⢌⡐⢡⢂⡘⢄⠡⢊⠤⡉⢆⠩ ⠀⠆⡄⠣⠌⡒⠡⢌⠢⠑⡌⡐⢡⠂⠤⡑⠨⢄⠡⢃⡑⢢⠑⣈⠂⡱⢀⠱⡈⢂⡑⢂⠱⡈⢄⠃⠆⡘⠤⢉⠒⠄⡌⠢⠑⡌⡐⢢⠉⡘⠄⢣⠘⠄⡊⠔⣈⢂⡑⢠⢉⠒⡈⠆⡉⢂⠅⢌⠢⢁⠆⠱⠐⡌⠂⡍⠒⡈⠆⠡⠃⡔⢡⠒⡠⠄⡠⢑⠨⡐⢡⠂⣉⠒⡠⢡⠘⢠⠃⢢⠑⣂⠘⡰⢀⢃⠢⠘⠤⠘⡄⢂⡘⠄⢃⡌⠒⡈⢆⠘ ⢈⠂⡔⢡⠂⡅⠃⡌⢂⠱⢠⠑⢂⡉⠒⣈⠱⢈⠆⡡⢂⠅⣊⠄⠣⡐⠡⢂⡑⠂⡜⡀⢣⠐⠌⡘⠤⠑⡌⠂⡍⠒⡈⢅⠃⡔⠁⢆⠱⠈⡜⠠⢃⠜⡠⢃⠔⢢⠘⢄⠊⡔⢡⢊⠰⣁⠊⡄⠣⠌⡌⣁⠣⡐⠡⢌⡑⠨⢌⡁⢣⠘⢄⠢⡑⢌⠰⡁⢆⡑⢢⠑⡄⢣⠐⡡⢊⠤⡉⢂⠱⡀⢣⠐⡡⢂⠥⢉⠢⠑⡌⢢⠈⡜⠀⢆⡑⢌⢂⡘

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ʀ/TᴡᴏSᴇɴᴛᴇɴᴄᴇHᴏʀʀᴏʀ 5 ʜʀ. ᴀɢᴏ Pɪsᴛᴀᴄʜɪᴏ_Mᴜsᴛᴀʀᴅ Wʜᴇɴ I ᴀsᴋᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴇɴɪᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴇɴᴅ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ I ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴄʀᴏᴘs ᴛᴏ ғʟᴏᴜʀɪsʜ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ Iᴛs ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀ ᴅᴀʏ ɴᴏᴡ ᴀɴᴅ I ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ɢᴇᴛ ᴍʏ ʙᴀʙʏ ᴛᴏ ᴇᴀᴛ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ

ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊·ㅤ∗ ˖࣪ ˚₊· ° ₊ · ✧ ヽ ·. ° 🥞. ° ₊ · ✧ ヽ ·. ° 🥞 ૮꒰⋆❛ ہ ❛⋆꒱ა 𓆩 ♡ 𓆪•̩̩͙ ˚ ✩;;༒ 𝖌𝕝𝒾,c̶̳͚̈́͌̿͋̔ͅ𝖍 ρ𝖗𝕚n̶͓͉̣͉͚̂̏͐ƈᵉ𝖘ร૮꒰ᴗ͈ ༝ ᴗ͈。꒱ა …・゜゜・ ૮꒰ᴗ͈ ꒳ ꒦ີ。꒱ა゜ ˚ ✩𒁂 ・゜・ ♡𒁂 ・゜・ ♡𒁂 ・゜・ ♡ ︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ - -⁠｡⁠ﾟ⁠+ 🌈⁠｡⁠ﾟ⁠+- - ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿ .｡.:*・ﾟ☆.｡.:*・ﾟ☆.｡.:*・ﾟ☆.｡.:*・ﾟ.｡.:*・ﾟ☆.｡.:*・ﾟ☆.｡.:*・ﾟ☆.｡.:*・ﾟ୧ ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶ୧ ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶ୧ ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶ୧ ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶ୧ ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶ ꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷ 🥛 ٞ ۪ ֺ ꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷꒥꒷ 　　**　　　❆　　　　❅*　　　　•　*　　　•　　　 .　　　　*　　　*　❆.　　　　　•　　　*　❅　　　　• ❅　　❆*　　·..　　*　·　*　　　　　·　　　　　　❅ 　.　❆　　　　.　❆　❆　•❅*•.·•.　　　　　　 　.❅　❅.　•　　·　　　　　　　·　　❅　•　　　　　　 　　　　　　❆　　　　·•　　　　　　　　　　　　　·　　* 　　　　❅　❅❆*　　•　　　　　　*　·　　　　　•　❅　 　　　　❆　　　　　　　　　.　　❅　·　　　　*　*　　　 　　*　　　　　　·•*　　　　　　　　　　❆　❆　　　　　 ❅·　　❅•　　　❅❅　　　·　　　　　•　.　　　　. ★˛˚˛*˛°.˛*.˛°˛.*★˚˛*˛°.˛*.˛°˛.*★*★* 。*˛.★˛˚˛*˛°.˛*.˛°˛.*★˚˛*˛°.˛*.˛°˛.*★*★* 。*˛.★˛˚˛*˛°.˛*.˛°˛.*★˚˛*˛°.˛*.˛°˛.*★*★* 。*˛.★˛˚˛*˛°.˛*.˛°˛.*★˚˛*˛°.˛*.˛°˛.*★*★* 。*˛. 🎄 ༺𝓜𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂༻༺𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼༻🎄 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡤⠶⠶⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡾⠋⢀⠀⠀⡀⠙⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠻⠃⠘⠟⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⢀⠘⣧⡀⠐⠢⠔⠂⢀⣼⠃⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀ ⢠⡿⠉⢈⡟⠉⠛⠛⠻⠿⠂⠀⠀⠐⠿⠟⠛⠛⠉⢻⡁⠉⢿⡄ ⠘⢷⣄⣾⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣶⣶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⣷⣠⡾⠃ ⠀⠀⠈⠉⠙⠛⠿⣶⡀⠀⠀⠈⠁⠀⠀⢀⣶⠿⠛⠋⠉⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡇⠀⠀⢾⡷⠀⠀⢸⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠁⠀⠀⣠⣄⠀⠀⠈⢿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡾⠁⠀⠀⢠⡟⢻⡄⠀⠀⠈⢷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣧⣤⣀⢠⡿⠀⠀⢿⡄⣀⣤⣼⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⠀⠉⢉⣿⠁⠀⠀⠈⣿⡉⠉⠀⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠳⠶⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠓⠶⠞⠋⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀˗ˏˋੈ✩‧₊˚★´ˎ˗ 𝑴͋𝒆͓𝒓̽𝒓̟𝒚 𝑪͋𝒉͓𝒓̽𝒊̟𝒔͋𝒕͓𝒎̽𝒂̟𝒔 ˗ˏˋ★´ˎ˗࿐ ࿔:･ﾟ ⠀⠀⡠⠖⠋⠉⠙⣷⣶⡤⢄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢀⣾⣷⣦⡀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣷⠀⠀⠉⣷⣶⡤⢄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣸⠿⠿⢿⣷⡤⢤⣸⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⡇⠀⠀⠙⣷⣶⠤⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠇⠀⠀⠀⢸⣀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠒⠢⢤⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⢹⣿⡖⠤⢤⡀ ⠸⡀⠀⣠⣾⣿⠏⠓⠲⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠓⠢⠤⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⠀⠀⢱ ⠀⠑⢾⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⢀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠒⠢⠼⣿⣿⠀⢀⠆ ⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠦⠤⣀⠌⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠀

A JOURNEY TO AUTISM ii (Autistic author) His eye took a moment to focus on her, and when it did, she saw a flicker of confusion, followed by a glimmer of recognition. "Karen?" he repeated, his voice still faint. "Yes, it's me, Plankton. You're ok." But his gaze remained distant, his focus unsteady. "Where...where are we?" "We're at the hospital, sweetheart," Karen said softly, stroking his antenna. "You had an accident." The confusion in Plankton's eye grew, and he tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness forced him back down. "What kind of accident?" His voice was still weak, but there was an urgency to his words that hadn't been there before. Karen took a deep breath, her grip on his hand tightening. "Mr. Krabs...he hit you with a fry pan." The words tasted bitter but she had to tell him the truth. Plankton's eye widened slightly, and she watched as the puzzle pieces of the situation slowly clicked into place in his mind. "Krabby Patty," he murmured, his voice distant. "Yes, Plankton, you were trying to get the recipe again," Karen whispered, aching at the memory. "But it's over now. You need to rest." His eye searched hers, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of his old self, the cunning and ambitious man she had married. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a vacant stare. "Don't... don't remember," he mumbled, his antennas drooping. This wasn't the Plankton she knew, the one who schemed with a glint in his eye and a plan in his pocket. "It's ok, Plankton," she soothed, her voice trembling. She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "Do you remember me?" Plankton's gaze remained steady for a moment, and then he nodded slowly. "Karen," he said, his voice a hoarse whisper. But the spark of recognition was tinged with confusion, as if he wasn't quite sure how he knew her. Karen's felt like breaking into a million tiny pieces. But she knew she had to stay strong. For Plankton. For them. "You don't remember what happened, do you?" she asked gently. "What else do you remember?" Plankton's antennas twitched slightly, his eye searching hers. "Don't know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen's chest tightened as she held back a sob. "It's ok," she reassured him, her voice shaky. "Do you remember your name?" she asked, her voice hopeful. He blinked slowly, his gaze fading in and out of focus, his brow furrowing as he concentrated. "Sheldon... Plankton?" The sound of his voice saying his own name brought a small smile to Karen's face. "Yes, that's right," she said, her voice filled with relief. "Do you remember where we live?" she continued, her tone gentle. Plankton's eye searched the ceiling of the hospital room, as if the answer was written there. "The Chum Bucket," he murmured, his voice unsure. Karen nodded, encouraged by his response. "Good, good," she said, smiling weakly. "What about our friends?" Again, the confusion clouded his gaze. "Friends?" he repeated, his voice tentative. "SpongeBob, Sandy...?" "Yes," Karen said, her voice soft. "Do you remember them?" Plankton's expression grew more distressed, his antennas drooping. "Square...SpongeBob. And a squirrel, yes?" He paused, trying to piece together the fragmented memories. Karen nodded, brimming with unshed tears. "Yes, SpongeBob SquarePants and Sandy Cheeks. They're friends." Plankton's antennas twitched as he processed the information, his brow furrowing with the effort. "Friends," he repeated, the word sounding foreign. Karen could see the gears turning in his tiny head, his brain desperately trying to make connections to his past. "Do you remember anything about your life before the accident?" Karen asked, her voice trembling with anticipation. Plankton's eye searched hers, uncertain. "Life...before?" Her heart sank. "You know, our adventures, our home, our love?" He stared at her, his expression unreadable. "Love?" The word was barely a whisper. "Yes, Plankton," she said, her voice cracking. "We love each other. We've been married for a long time, and we've had so many adventures together." She paused, willing the words to resonate with him, to ignite a spark of memory. "Do you remember any of that?" Plankton's gaze remained vacant for a moment before he nodded slightly. "Married," he murmured, as if tasting the word for the first time. "To Karen." His antennas lifted slightly, a glimmer of something familiar flickering in his eye. "Karen Plankton computer wife." "Yes, Plankton," Karen said, her voice thick with emotion. "Does that mean something to you?" she asked, her heart in her throat. He nodded slowly, his antennas waving slightly. "Computer wife," he murmured again, his voice gaining a hint of warmth. "Karen." Karen felt a flicker of hope. "Yes, Plankton, I'm your wife." She leaned closer, her voice gentle. "Do you remember anything about us?" Plankton's antennas twitched as he thought. "Wife," he said slowly, his voice a faint echo of the man she knew. "Wife...Karen. Married July 31, 1999." That was their wedding day, a date they had celebrated every year since. "Yes," she whispered, her voice choking. "We got married on July 31, 1999." The hospital room felt thick with silence as she waited for his next words. Plankton's eye searched the room, his antennas twitching as he tried to piece together the shards of his past. "Plankton, can you tell me about yourself?" Karen asked, her voice gentle. "What do you like to do?" Plankton's antennas twitched as he thought. "Invent," he said, his voice still weak but with a hint of pride. "Science?" The words came out as a question, as if he wasn't quite sure of his own identity. "Yes," Karen said, her voice brightening slightly. "You're a genius inventor. You've made so many wonderful things." She paused, hoping to see some spark of recognition in his eye. "Do you remember any of your inventions?" Plankton's antennas waved in the air, as if searching for the memories that remained elusive. "Inventions," he murmured, his single eye searching the ceiling. "Gadgets...machines." "That's right," Karen encouraged, squeezing his hand. "You've created so many amazing machines. Can you describe one of them?" He blinked, his antennas stilling for a moment. "Chum...Chum Dispenser 3000," he said, his voice picking up a bit. "It makes...makes food for fishies." Karen's smile grew despite the pain. The Chum Dispenser 3000 was one of his earlier inventions, a failed attempt to lure customers to their restaurant, but it was a testament to his ingenuity. "That's wonderful, Plankton," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "How about something more recent?" she prompted, eager to see how much of their shared history remained with him. Plankton's antennas twitched as his brain worked overtime. "Um... the Incredibubble," he said, his voice picking up speed as he talked. "It's a bubble that can shrink things down to microscopic size." Karen felt a jolt of excitement. "That's right!" she exclaimed, squeezing his hand. "You used it to get to find a secret plan." Plankton's gaze remained distant, but there was a hint of curiosity in his eye. "Computer... plan?" "Yes," Karen said, her voice shaking. "We've had so many adventures together, Plankton. We've faced so much together." He nodded, his antennas twitching slightly. "Together," he repeated, as if testing the word on his tongue. "Do you remember any of those adventures?" Karen asked, her voice trembling. "Adventures?" Plankton's eye flickered, and she could almost see the wheels turning in his mind. "With Karen... wife?" "Yes, with me. We've traveled the ocean, faced so many challenges together." The doctor came in. "You can go home now," he said. Karen nodded, never leaving Plankton's face. She had spoken to the doctor about his condition, about the autism, but she still wasn't sure how to process it all. How would their life change now? "Come on, Plankton," she said, helping him sit up gently. "Let's get you home." She buckles him into his side of the car, his newfound passivity making the usual struggle unnecessary. The engine of the tiny vehicle roars to life, and Karen guides them out of the hospital parking lot. The ride back to the Chum Bucket is quiet, the only sound being the hum of the car's engine and the occasional splash from the waves outside. Karen keeps glancing at Plankton, his antennas listless as he stares out the window. His mind seems to be somewhere else, lost in a world of his own making. When they arrive, she helps Plankton out of the car and supports him as they make their way to the door. The neon sign flickers in the gloom, casting erratic shadows across the sand. The once bustling environment now feels eerie and desolate. Karen's mind is racing with thoughts of how to make this place feel like home again for Plankton.

🫐|🧁|🫐 🧁|🫐|🧁

┣┓웃┏♨━❤━♨┑유┏┥

🍨/🍨/🍨 🎂/🍨/🎂 🍨/🍨/🍨

. ˳⁺⁎ ꒰ 🍪 ꒱ ⁎⁺˳ .

THE LIFE OF UNITY ii (Autistic author; make sure to read A LIFE OF DIVERSITY i - x first!) Kevin scoffs. "Yeah, right," he says, voice dripping with disdain. Kevin snorts. "So jellyfish are smarter than you? You're saying you're like a jelly fish; Brainless and just floating around?" Plankton's antennae stiffen, taking on edge. "Kevin," he murmurs, "Jellyfish have nerve nets. Complex behaviors. Brainless? Not brainless. Different." Kevin's eyes narrow, his grin fading into a sneer. "So, what you're saying is that you're like a jellyfish?" he taunts. "Just with no real purpose?" The silence that follows is thick with tension. Plankton's antennae quiver. "Jellyfish," he murmurs, eye flashing, "have purpose. Plankton has purpose." Kevin snickers, unaware of the impact of his words. "Sure, Plankton," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Your purpose is to annoy me I guess." Plankton's antennae stiffen. "Purpose," he murmurs, his one eye narrowing. "Annoying Kevin... not Plankton's purpose you don't understand." Kevin's sneer turns into a full-blown laugh. "Understand what?" he asks, his voice dripping with disbelief. "That you think jellyfish are your friends? That you're obsessed with them because you're just like them?" Plankton's antennae quiver with a mix of anger and sadness, his monotone voice tight. "Jellyfish. Different." Kevin's laughter echoes through the jellyfish fields, his ignorance fueling the flames of Plankton's anger. "Oh come on," he says. "You're just mad because you can't outsmart a jellyfish." Plankton's antennae quiver violently, his monotone voice filled with a rare emotion: insecurity. "Kevin," he murmurs, "you don't know what you're saying." But Kevin's laughter doesn't cease, eyes sparkling with mischief. "What, are you going to get all sensitive on me now?" he asks, his voice filled with mock concern. "Is Plankton thinking with his 'jellyfish brain'?" Plankton's antennae droop, the barb of Kevin's words hitting too close to home. "It's not funny," Plankton murmurs, antennae drooping. SpongeBob steps forward, fists clenched. "Kevin, that's not cool," he says firmly. "You don't know what you're talking about." Kevin's laughter falters, his smirk fading. "What do you mean?" he asks, his voice defensive. "It's just a joke." "No," Plankton murmurs, his antennae drooping further. "Not funny." Kevin's sneer fades, his expression shifting to confusion. "What's your problem, Plankton?" he asks, his voice tinged with annoyance. "Kevin," Sponge Bob says, his voice a mix of concern and reprimand. "That's not nice. Plankton's interest in jellyfish is special to him." But Kevin's sneer only deepens. "Oh, I get it," he says, his voice dripping with condescension. "You're all playing along with his little game. Well, I'm not. Jellyfish are just mindless blobs. And if you're so obsessed with them Plankton, maybe that's all you are, too." Plankton's antennae quiver, his eye blinking rapidly. But Kevin, fueled by his own ignorance, continues to laugh, his words cutting deeper. "What's the matter, Plankton?" he sneers. "Can't take a little ribbing?" Plankton's antennae quiver with each insult, his monotone voice strained. "Kevin," he murmurs, his one eye wide with hurt. "Not a game." Kevin's laughter echoes through the jellyfish fields, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "Oh, I see," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're just to sensitive for a little teasing." But Plankton's antennae quiver with a mix of anger and sadness, his monotone voice tight. "Jellyfish... complex," he murmurs, his eye flashing with determination. "Not brainless. Not like your jokes." "What's the matter?" Kevin asks, his smirk growing. "Can't handle the truth?" "Truth?" Plankton's antennae quiver with emotion. "Jellyfish," he murmurs, his monotone voice filled with a rare passion. "Jellyfish... beautiful. Complex." Kevin's eyes narrow, his laughter fading. "Beautiful?" he scoffs. "They're just jellyfish, Plankton. They don't have feelings. They don't have brains. Just like you." Plankton's antennae quiver. But Kevin's smirk only widens, his laughter bouncing off the surrounding coral, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "You can't talk without getting all worked up. What kind of brainless blob are you?" Plankton's antennae quiver, his monotone voice strained. "Kevin," he murmurs, "you don't understand." "Understand what?" Kevin sneers, eyes gleaming with malicious amusement. "That jellyfish are just mindless blobs of jelly? That you're just like them?" Plankton's antennae droop. "Kevin," he murmurs, "you don't know." "Know what?" Kevin's laughter is cruel, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "That jellyfish are just mindless animals and you're obsessed with them because you're just a brainless creature who can't get a life?" Plankton's antennae droop even further, his one eye blinking rapidly. "Not mindless." Kevin's laughter turns into a cackle. "Oh, so you think you're better than jellyfish now?" he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Maybe if you had a brain, you could actually catch one of those Krabby Patties you're always after! Maybe if you had a brain, you'd realize THAT YOU'LL NEVER BE MORE THAN A TINY, BRAINLESS BOTTOM FEEDER!" The words hit Plankton like a tidal wave, antennae drooping even further. "Kevin," Plankton murmurs, his monotone voice thick with emotion, "you don't know."

Any moment now... Are you sure this is what you want? (Scoff) Oh spare me your spin, you tablet tabloid. If you want to psychoanalyze someone, don't look at me- Look at them! It's so pathetic, How they run to fetch their sticks… Sure, call me polemic, unsympathetic, At least I know other tricks! Look at me and all you'll see is the debris of some defective outcast, A frenetic, antithetic (if poetic) little iconoclast, But I won't live in the past. (I almost won this game once, you know.) But. History is rearranged just to credit those who win the glory, So reality is changed in the edit when they spin the story, And we choose, to feel this pain, And we lose, more than we gain... But I will BREAK this cycle, Of mistakes, unlike all, Of these SNAKES whom I call to condemn! If I can't win the prize, I'll play this last reprisal! Just to bring their lies all to an end… -Ack! You need regeneration. Unfortunately, I don't have much faith in that process. Of course not. Why "of course not?". You believe yourself to be incapable of starting over, in more ways than one. I do not know who you lost, but is it not possible to get them back? "Clear the slate, start again", Are you hearing how preposterous that sounds? How do you not comprehend that for someone with my MONSTROUS BACKGROUND, the whole slate has fallen apart! Taco that is not true. There are other ways to- IT’S TOO LATE- It's not too late, FOR ME TO RESTART! But it's not I, its they, (Let us talk about it when your), Who deign to play this game, so, (head is not so clouded. You're no), Cruel & inhumane, base & uncouth, (menace, Taco, how did they hurt you?) (Please think this through) I think they're too afraid to, (Feeling double-crossed is part of), Bear the bed they've made, (Dealing with a loss, yes, but the), Can't bring themselves to face the awful truth. (Healing is a process, that's the truth) So I'm turning up the heat to "sauté", I've a beef to get grilled, But I fully guarantee today that all the beans that get spilled, Won't be mine, No I'm fine, I- Shhhh... Now it's time...

if u like bfdi or inanimate insanity OR ANY OBJECTSHOW plz dm me on pinterest 😞 Pic0cooreee11😐𝒻𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓀𝓎

ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃ ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗ ʸᵒᵘ'ˡˡ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳᵍᵉᵗ!" ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢˡᵃᵐᵐᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʰᵃᵈ ᵍⁱᵛᵉⁿ ᵒˡᵈ ᵐᵃⁿ ᴶᵉⁿᵏⁱⁿˢ ᵃ ᵇᵘʳᵍᵉʳ⸴ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ʰᵉ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ‧ ᴼⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ᶠᵃˡˡ⸴ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢʰⁱᵖ ᵒᵛᵉʳ‧ ᔆᵒ ʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ʰᵃᵈ⸴ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ ᶜʰᵃⁱⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ⁿᵉʷ ʳᵉᶜⁱᵖᵉ‧ ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵉʳˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵉʷ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵖᵒᵖᵘˡᵃʳ⸴ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵃˡˡ ˢᵃᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵘᵗᶜᵃˢᵗˢ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᵃᵇᵃⁿᵈᵒⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵒʳ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧ @ALYJACI

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PLANKTON GOING TO THE DENTIST Ii/Ii Plankton's eye dart around the room, trying to focus, confusion growing as the words won't come out right. "Th-th-the...th-the...th-th-th-th..." He stammers, his mouth working overtime to form the words. Karen's laughter subsides into a comforting chuckle. "It's ok, Plankton." "Th-th-then...why...why do I tawking wike thith?" He asks, voice a wobbly mess, each word a struggle. "I...I'm a g-g-genius!" He stammers, trying to sound defiant despite his speech impediment. "I'n noth s-s-suppothed to tawl wike thish!" Karen giggles. "It's just anesthesia, Plankton," she says soothingly. "It'll wear off soon." Plankton's eye widen further. "B-but...I nee, needff to...to think...think...think!" He stammers. "You'll be fine, Plankton," she says. The dentist pats Plankton's shoulder. "You're quite the charmer even with a mouthful of gauze," he quips, and the assistant snickers. Plankton's cheeks redden, indignation clear even through haze of anesthesia. "I caan...caan...can't...I caan't th-th-think!" Plankton splutters. Karen tries to stifle her giggles, shaking with amusement. "It's anesthesia," she repeats, her voice a gentle wave washing over him. "You're ok, Plankton. You're ok." He takes a deep breath, willing his tongue to cooperate. "G-got...it-t," he says. "Alright, Mr. Plankton, let's get you sitting up," he says. He tries to stand, but his body feels like it's made of jelly, his legs wobbling beneath him. "Whoa!" He exclaims, speech slightly clearer but still slurred. "Thish isn't goog." Karen and the dental staff help him to his feet, the nurse holding on to him as he sways slightly. His eye still glazed over, but there's a hint of the sharpness that she knows so well starting to shine through. "Steady there," she says supporting him. "Let's get to the car." Plankton nods. "Yeah...the...the...ca--" he says. He takes a shaky step. "Just keep taking it slow," she advises, her voice a beacon in the fog of his mind. Karen's supporting him as they navigate the hallway. "Where...wher's...wher's the...the...th-the...?" Plankton's words trip over each other, traitor to his usual eloquence. "The car, sweetie," Karen says, her voice a lifeline in the fog of anesthesia. She leads him through the hallway acting as a gentle guide. The receptionist waves with a smile. "Moth...thath...moth," he stammers. She fastens his seatbelt for him. "D-don't laug-fh at me," he mumbles, eye half-lidded with the lingering effects of anesthesia. "I'm not laughing at you," Karen says. "I'm just happy you're ok." Plankton nods. He tries to say "thanks," but it comes out as "thathks." "You're welcome, Plankton. You're going to be fine." She starts the engine. "Bh-buth...whath abou- the...the...th-the...the...teethies?" Plankton slurs, words a tangled mess. Karen laughs. "Don't worry about the teeth Plankton. They're out. You're all healed up." Plankton nods, his eye glazed and his speech still slurred. "Thath's...tha's good," he manages to say. "But I...I can't t-talk wight," he mumbles, frustrated. "Don't worry, honey," Karen says, patting his hand. "You're just a bit loopy from anesthesia. It'll wear off." Plankton tries to argue, but all that comes out is a series of garbled sounds. "Th-the...th-th-th..." "Your mouth is just numb, Plankton," Karen says, driving. "The anesthesia makes it hard to talk." But Plankton can't help it; he keeps trying, his slurred words a jumble of consonants. "Th-th-that's not ith’s," he protests, his voice bubbly. "I'm a g-g-gen-n-n...genius!" Karen giggles, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "You're a genius all right," she teases. Plankton's eye narrow in determination. "Th-that's not...noth fair!" He says, his tongue feeling like a thick sea slug. Karen can't help but laugh harder. "It's ok, Plankton," she says. "But I...I nee-f to...to...to th-th-think! I can't...can't th-think thish!" Karen's laughter bubbles up again and she squeezes his hand reassuringly. "You're ok, Plankton," she says, voice a warm current of comfort. "D-don't...d-don't leav-e me," he mumbles, his eye drooping. Karen glances over. "I'm right here, Plankton," she says. Plankton's head lolls to the side, and his snores become a soothing background to the hum of the boat's engine. His mouth hangs open, a stream of drool trailing down his chin, creating a small pool in the seat. Karen, noticing the gauze in his mouth has shifted, gently repositioned it, careful not to cause him any pain. He mumbles something incoherent, and she chuckles, shaking her head. "Rest my love," she murmurs. The drool continues to escape Plankton's mouth, creating a wet spot on the boat's upholstery, his slumbering form a stark contrast to the sharp scheming creature she's used to. She reaches over to gently dab at the drool, her movements careful not to disturb his sleep. As the boat docks at the Chum Bucket, Karen wonders how she'll manage to get him inside without him babbling incoherently and scaring off any passersby. But Plankton, in his anesthesia-induced haze, seems oblivious to the world around him, his snores the only sound. Karen helps him out of the boat, and she half-drags half-carries him through the door. They enter their living quarters and she gently lays him on their bed which feels like a vast ocean compared to his usual cramped lab space. She carefully takes out the gauze, watching his eye flutter open. "Where...where am I?" He mumbles. "You're home, Plankton," Karen says, her voice a soft wave of comfort. She wipes his chin clean with a warm, damp cloth. Plankton looks around, his eye finally focusing on the familiar sights of their home. "Home?" He slurs, his tongue thick and clumsy in his mouth. "B-but...I..." "Just rest, Plankton," Karen says, pushing him gently back down. "You've had a big day." Home never felt so welcoming, Plankton thinks, as he sinks into the embrace of the bed. Karen fluffs a pillow under his head, her movements tender. "Th-thank youw," he manages to say, his speech still thick. "You're welcome," Karen replies, her voice a gentle caress. "Now, you just rest. I'll be here." He closes his eye, letting the numbness of his mouth and the heaviness of his limbs take over. Karen sits beside him, moving in a soothing rhythm against his arm. "You're going to be fine," Karen whispers, stroking his cheek. "Just sleep it off and by tomorrow you'll be back to your usual scheming self." Plankton tries to smile but his mouth refuses to cooperate. The corners of his mouth twitch upwards in a half-hearted attempt and he mumbles "I wove youw thoo." The next day, Plankton wakes up. The numbness in his mouth has subsided leaving only a dull throb. He opens his eye to see Karen. "How do you feel?" She asks. Plankton's eye blinked open, the room spinning around him. Karen came into focus. "Mmph; wha's? Wh-when..." "Your wisdom teeth," she says, her voice a soothing tide. "They're gone Plankton. You don't have to worry about them anymore." "Wis-wis-wis...?" He stammers, his tongue tripping over the word "wisdom." "Yes, Plankton," Karen says with amusement. "You had your wisdom teeth removed yesterday." Plankton's eye widen, and he tries to sit up. "Y-yesterday?" He slurs. "But I...I caan't...can't remember.." Karen nods, her smile full of mirth. "You were pretty out of it," she says. He tries to push himself up, but the pain in his mouth sends a shockwave through. "Mph-ow!" He flops back down, his hands flying to his cheeks. "What do you mean?" Karen laughs. "You were pretty loopy," she says, holding him down gently. "The anesthesia had you talking like..." she pauses, searching for the right words. "Well, like you've never talked before." "I hope I...I didn't say anything..." he starts, his voice trailing off. "Oh, you said plenty," she teases. "But don't worry, it was just the anesthesia talking." "Wh-wh-what did I say?" Karen chuckles. "You were worried about your 'teethies'," she mimics his slurred speech from the day before. "And you kept insisting you needed to think, even when it was clear you couldn't even talk straight. But don't worry; you're just fine."

🗿

AUTISM IN THE PLANKTON FAMILY ii (Autistic author) Karen's friend Hanna came over unexpectedly. Hanna never met Plankton personally, nor did she hear of his diagnosis. "Oh, Plankton, it's good to finally meet you!" Hanna exclaimed, voice bubbly. Plankton looked up from his book, his gaze unwavering. He didn't move or speak. Yet Hanna was oblivious. Karen stepped in, her smile forced. "Honey, this is Hanna," she said, hoping for a response. Plankton studied Hanna with a curiosity that was both intense and slightly unnerving. He tilted his head, his antennae vibrating slightly. "Hello," he said, his voice monotone. "I'll go get some refreshments," says Karen. Hanna took a seat right up by Plankton, unaware of his aversion to touch. "So, Karen tells me you're quite the inventor," Hanna said with a chuckle, reaching out to pat him on the back. Plankton flinched at the unexpected contact, antennae twitching. "What are you working on?" she asked, picking up a gadget. Plankton's antennae snapped to attention, eye widening in horror. "That's not for touching!" he snapped, his voice sharp and urgent. "Oh, sorry," she stuttered, quickly returning it to the bench. "I didn't know." Plankton's gaze didn't leave. He took a deep breath. But she didn't give him space, didn't understand him. Plankton felt tense, antennae quivering. "Could I see what you're reading?" Hanna leaned closer, trying to peer at the book. Plankton flinched, his grip tightening around the pages. His eye flitted to the book and back to her, his antennae pulsing rapidly. But Hanna was unaware of the discomfort she was causing. "It's just a book," she said with a wave of her hand. "Don't be so secretive." She leaned in even closer, trying to make eye contact. The room grew hotter, his antennae twitching uncontrollably. He felt his heart racing in his chest, the thump- thump echoing in his ears. He wanted to yell at her to go away, but he knew that would only make things worse. "Could you not talk so much?" Plankton's voice was tight, his desire for quiet clear. But Hanna, in her ignorance, just laughed, thinking it was a quirky part of his personality. "I've got so much to tell you about!" she babbled, her hands animated as she talked. Plankton's seeking an escape from the onslaught of sensory input. Hanna, oblivious to his distress, rattled on. Each word she spoke was a new pinprick on his already frayed nerves. He couldn't focus on the conversation. "So, what do you think?" Hanna asked, her eyes bright with expectation. Plankton blinked, pulled from his thoughts. "Think about what?" He replied, his voice flat. Hanna's smile wavered. "I said, what do you think about the new fashion trend in Bikini Bottom?" Plankton blinked again, trying to process her words. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, and the effort it took to engage in small talk was exhausting. He shrugs. It was the only response he could muster. His brain felt like it was short-circuiting, trying to keep up. Hanna was unfazed. "It's all the rage!" she exclaimed, grabbing his shoulder. Plankton's antennae shot up, his body stiffening. The touch was like a shock to his system, and he had to fight the urge to pull away. "Mm," he murmured, not really listening. The effort to maintain his composure was Herculean. Hanna didn't seem to notice, her laughter bubbling over, taking Plankton's lack of engagement as shyness. "You know, Patrick's even started a jellyfishing club!" Plankton nodded again, his eye flicking towards the doorway, willing Karen to return. Plankton felt his head throbbing. He tried to focus on her words, to find some semblance of meaning in the chaos. Plankton realized she was waiting for him to speak, but he can't. He wanted to scream, to tell her to just leave him alone. "You know, Plankton," Hanna said, her voice softer now, "Karen tells me you're quite the genius." She leaned forward. Plankton's antennae twitching erratically. She reached out to pat his arm again, but that was the straw that broke the camel's back. Plankton's eye widened with panic. He twitched abruptly, knocking over his chair. "I'm sorry. Did I do something wrong?" Plankton didn't answer. He couldn't. The words were trapped in his throat, a tangled mess of frustration and anxiety. He took a step back, his chest heaving with shallow breaths. The room spun around him, his senses on overload. Hanna noticed his distress. "Plankton?" she whispered, her hand outstretched. But Plankton was beyond words. He couldn't form a coherent response, couldn't explain. Karen rushed into the room, alerted by the sound of the chair falling. Her screen searched her husband's face, seeing the distress he couldn't voice. "What happened?" Hanna stuttered, her hands up in defense. "I don't know! I was just talking to him, and he...he..." But Karen had already assessed the situation. She saw the fear in Hanna and the panic in Plankton. She knew he was overwhelmed. She stepped in quickly, her voice a soothing balm. "It's ok Plankton," she said, her tone calm and reassuring. "You're safe. It's just Hanna. She's a friend." Plankton's antennae stopped quivering, his breaths coming in slightly more even. But he didn't look at Karen, his gaze still locked on the wallpaper. Hanna watched, her expression mixture of concern and confusion. But Plankton couldn't find words. His mind was a maelstrom of thoughts and sensory input. He felt his body shaking, breaths coming in quick gasps. Hanna took a tentative step. "What's going on?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. Plankton's body remained rigid, his eye still fixed on the wall. Hanna tried to reach out to him like Karen did. "NO!" he yelled, his voice echoing through the lab, the first time he'd raised it since his diagnosis. Hanna took a step back, her face falling. "I'm sorry," she whispered. But Plankton couldn't hear her apology, couldn't process anything anymore, couldn't move nor speak. The world was too much, too loud, too bright, too everything. He retreated into himself. Karen watched as Hanna took in the scene before her, her own hand freezing in mid-air. The room was silent except for Plankton's ragged breaths, his tiny body trembling. "I didn't mean to upset him," Hanna whispered, her voice trembling. "I just wanted to be friendly." Karen's gaze never left Plankton. She knew he couldn't help it. The diagnosis was new, and they were both learning to navigate this uncharted territory. Karen didn't want to go into details about Plankton's autism with Hanna, not yet. Hanna looked from Plankton to Karen. "What's wrong with you?" she asked him, shaking. Plankton didn't respond, his gaze still locked on the wallpaper. His body was a statue, but inside, he was a tempest of overstimulation and fear. Hanna's words, her touch, her very presence was too much for him to handle. Karen stepped closer, placing her hand on Hanna's arm. "He's just overwhelmed." Hanna looked at her, the confusion clear in her screen. "Can you give us a moment? He needs space." Hanna nods. Approaching Plankton, Karen knelt before his frozen form. "It's ok," she whispered, her voice a gentle lullaby. "You're safe here." She took his hands, guiding them to her shoulders, his grip tightening reflexively. Hanna hovered, unsure of what to do, but Karen's gaze was firm. "I'll take care of him," she assured. Karen sat with him, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew what he needed. "You're ok," Karen whispered, repeating it like a mantra. Plankton's body was rigid, but his grip on her shoulders began to loosen. She stroked his arm, her touch gentle and rhythmic. "It's just you and me, Plankton." Slowly, the tension in his body began to ease, his breathing evening out. Karen remained a constant, calming presence. "I'm here," she murmured, her eyes meeting his, which were now brimming with unshed tears. "You're ok. It's just us." Plankton's antennae stopped twitching as he focused on Karen's face. Her eyes were filled with love and understanding, a beacon in the storm of his overwhelmed senses. "You're ok," she repeated, her voice a lullaby that seemed to resonate with his racing heart. He nodded slightly, his gaze never leaving hers. Sensing his comfort with her proximity, Karen carefully wrapped her arms around him. He didn't resist, instead leaning into her embrace. She could feel his body relaxing, his breaths growing deeper. The room was quiet now. She rocked him gently, the motion soothing to them both. His antennae stilled, and his eye began to droop. Plankton's body grew heavy, his muscles finally relaxing. The storm of his thoughts began to calm, the sensory overload slowly abating. Karen felt his grip loosen, his breaths deepening as he leaned into her embrace. The weight of his head grew heavier against her shoulder. His breaths grew slower, deeper. Karen felt Plankton's grip on her shoulders loosen until his arms were draped over her, his breathing deep and even. She knew he was exhausted. Plankton's head lolled against her neck, and she felt the tension in his body ease away, his limbs going slack. Her hand stroked his back, the rhythmic motion a comforting reminder that he was safe. Karen noticed Plankton's breathing had turned into a gentle snore, his body finally at ease. Hanna, who stood in the doorway, came closer to the couple. "I am so..." Karen turned to her, her expression firm but gentle. "Shh," she hushed, raising a finger. "He's asleep." She didn't want to explain his condition, not yet. The words were still too fresh, too raw. Hanna nodded, brimming with unshed tears. She looked at Plankton, then back to Karen. "What can I do?" she asked softly. Karen took a deep breath, composing herself. "Just give us some space for now. I can explain later." Hanna nodded, her screen never leaving Plankton. "Ok," she whispered, retreating.

WHEN THE CHIP FALLS ii/ii (Autistic author) Karen takes a deep breath, preparing to explain. "You know how sometimes, when somethings made, things don't always develop as planned?" she starts, her eyes never leaving Chip's. "Well, Daddy's brain is like that. It's just how he was born." Plankton's shoulders slump, anger dissipating into a heavy sadness. He looks at his son, his heart aching. "It's hard for me to express how I feel," he says. "But that doesn't mean I don't feel it." Chip stares up at his father. "But why can't you just tell me?" he asks, trembling. "Why can't you just be like... normal dads?" The word "normal" hangs in the air and Plankton feels his rage reignite. "Don't you dare," he growls, his eye flashing with anger. "Don't you ever say that again." Chip takes a step back, his body shaking. "What did I say?" he whispers. But Plankton doesn't answer. He turns away, his movements stiff and jerking, as if he's fighting against invisible chains. Without a word, he storms out of the living room. The bedroom door slams shut with a finality that echoes through the house. Karen's gaze follows him, her heart heavy. Then she looks back at Chip, her eyes filled with a mix of love and disappointment. "Chip," she says firmly. "You can't just... expect him to change like that." Chip's eyes fill with understanding, his body slumping. "I didn't mean to..." he starts, his voice trailing off. "But I just want to spend time with him," he says, his voice small and defeated. Karen sighs, her gaze softening as she looks at her son. "I know, sweetie," she says, her voice gentle. "But using the word 'normal' doesn't help. It makes Daddy feel like something's wrong with him, like he's not good enough." Chip's eyes widen, realizing his mistake. "I didn't mean it like that," he stammers, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I just want us to be happy together." Karen nods solemnly, her eyes holding his. "I know you do," she says, her voice gentle. "But words can hurt, especially when we don't understand the full weight they carry. Your father's not 'normal' in the way you think, but that doesn't mean his love for you is any less." Chip bites his lip, his eyes glued to the floor. He feels a pang of guilt, knowing he's hurt his dad. With a heavy sigh, Karen stands up. "Let's go talk to your father," she says, placing a comforting hand on Chip's shoulder. They walk down the hallway to Plankton's bedroom. The door is ajar, and through the crack, Karen can see Plankton's hunched form on the bed, his face buried in his hands. His shoulders shake with silent sobs. Her heart aches for his pain. With Chip in tow, she pushes the door open. Plankton doesn't look up, his body wrapped in a cocoon of self-loathing. The room is a mess of discarded lab equipment and half-finished experiments, a visual representation of his tumultuous thoughts. "Plankton," Karen says softly, her voice a lifeline thrown into the sea of his despair. He doesn't move, his body rigid with the weight of his own emotions. Chip takes a tentative step forward, his hand reaching out to touch his father's shoulder. "Dad?" he whispers. Plankton's body jolts, his sobs growing louder. Karen's heart clenches at the sound, knowing the depth of his pain. "Dad?" Chip's voice is tiny, his hand hovering over his father's back. He's never seen his dad like this, so vulnerable and broken. Plankton's sobs fill the room, each one a shard of pain that penetrates Karen's soul. Her heart breaks for her husband, for the struggle she knows he faces every day. Chip's hand shakes as he touches Plankton's shoulder, his voice a tiny thread of hope woven through the storm of emotions. "Dad, I'm sorry," he says, his voice barely a whisper. Plankton's sobs intensify, his body wracking with the weight of his sorrow. Karen moves to the bed, sitting down beside him, her hand on his back. "It's okay," she whispers, her voice a gentle breeze in the storm of his grief. But Plankton is beyond consolation. His sobs are like waves, crashing against the shore of his pride, eroding the barriers he's built up over the years. He can't speak, can't even look at his son. Chip's touch is a soft whisper in the hurricane of his father's pain, but it's enough to make Plankton's shoulders shake even harder. The weight of his emotions is too much, his body unable to contain the torrent. Karen wraps her arms around him, trying to soothe the storm within. She knows the feeling all too well, having been his anchor through so many of these moments. Plankton's sobs are like a language only she can understand. Chip watches, feeling helpless, his hand still hovering over his father's back. He's seen his dad upset before, but never like this. It's like looking into the eye of a hurricane and wishing you could stop it from spinning. "Daddy," Chip says again, his voice tiny, hopeful. Plankton's body tenses under his touch, and for a moment, it seems like the storm might abate. But the sobs only get louder, the tremors more violent. Karen's heart breaks as she sees the hurt in her son's eyes. "Let's give him some space, okay?" she says gently, her hand on Chip's shoulder. "Go wait, I'll take care of him." With a nod, Chip retreats, his eyes never leaving his father's bent form. Once he's gone, Karen wraps her arms around Plankton, holding him tightly as he cries. "Shh," she whispers, stroking his back in soothing circles. "It's okay. I'm here." Her voice is a lullaby in the tempest of his emotions, a beacon of calm in the chaos. Slowly, Plankton's sobs begin to subside, his body unclenching from its self-imposed prison. He lifts his face, eye red and wet with tears. "I just want..." he whispers, his voice raw with pain. Karen's eyes well up with tears, her heart aching for his suffering. "You are normal, Plankton," she says softly. "You're just different." Plankton's body quakes, his sobs subsiding into hiccups. "But Chip..." he chokes out. "He thinks... he thinks..." Karen's grip tightens, her voice firm and loving. "Chip's young," she says. "He doesn't understand yet. But we'll teach him." Plankton's sobs slowly ease, his breaths coming less ragged. He nods, his body still tense. "I know," he says, his voice a whisper. "But it hurts." Karen pulls him closer, aching for his pain. She kisses his cheek, her touch gentle the way she knows he likes it. "You're a good dad," she whispers, her voice the calm after the storm. "You show Chip that you're here for him, in your own way." Plankton's eye meets hers, his gaze searching for truth in her words. He nods slowly, his shoulders slumping as he takes a deep, shuddering breath. "Thank you," he whispers, his voice still thick with emotion. Karen nods, her heart full of love and sorrow. "Let's go talk to Chip," she says gently, standing up. Plankton wipes his eye, his body still trembling. He nods, following her out of the room, each step a monumental effort. In the hallway, Chip is sitting on the floor, his back against the wall. He looks up as they approach, his eyes red and swollen. "Dad," he says, his voice cracking with emotion. Plankton's steps falter, his heart in his throat. He forces himself to meet his son's gaze, the weight of his guilt a heavy burden. "I'm sorry," Chip says, his voice shaky. The words are a balm to Plankton's soul, his anger and pain receding like a retreating tide. He looks at Chip, his eye swollen with unshed tears, his heart heavy with regret. "I didn't mean to... I just..." Chip's eyes are red, his cheeks stained with tears. "Dad, I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice a mere thread of sound. Plankton's heart clenches at the sight of his son's pain. He sits down next to Chip, his movements slow and deliberate, not wanting to startle him. "It's okay," he says, his voice shaky. "I shouldn't have snapped at you. I'm not..." Chip looks up, his eyes swimming with tears. "You're not what?" he asks, his voice hopeful. Plankton sighs, trying to find the words. "I'm not like other dads," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "But that doesn't mean I don't l-love you, or that I don't want to be with you." Plankton's gaze drops to his son's small, trembling hand. "It's hard," he says, his voice tight with emotion. "I... I don't always know how to make you feel what's inside." Chip looks up at him, his eyes searching. "What's inside?" he asks, his voice tiny. Plankton's gaze meets his son's, and he sees the flicker of hope. "Love," he says finally, his voice cracking. "It's just... different." Chip's eyes widen with understanding, the fear fading from his eyes. "Can you show me?" he asks, his voice small but steady. Plankton nods, his body still tense with emotion. He thinks for a moment, trying to find a way to bridge the gap between his love and his inability to express it. "Look," he says, pointing to a jar on the shelf. "I only like certain touches from certain people. But I'm the one who recommended we get that ice cream yesterday, right?" Chip nods, his eyes glistening with hope. "Yeah, you always know the perfect flavor." Plankton's smile is forced, but it's a start. He takes a deep, shaky breath. "And remember when you had that science fair project, and I helped you?" Chip nods, his eyes lit with memory. "You stayed up all night, making sure I got it just right." Plankton's smile is a little more genuine this time. "I did that because I care about you. I want you to be happy, even if I can't show it like everyone else." He reaches out tentatively, his hand hovering near Chip's. For a moment, it seems like he might withdraw again, like a snail retreating into its shell at the first sign of danger. But then, with a deep breath, he touches his son's shoulder, his fingers light and unsure. Plankton's hand trembles, his touch as gentle as a feather landing on Chip's shoulder before retreating. "Normal is over rated," he whispers, the word a promise. "But I do, in my own way."

https://nonutsmomsgroup.weebly.com/blog/remembering-those-we-have-lost-to-food-allergies

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COMPUTER SENSORS ii * * ᴬˢ ᵃ ⁿᵉᵘʳᵒᵈⁱᵛᵉʳᵍᵉⁿᵗ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉʳ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗⁱᵍᵐᵃᵗⁱᶻᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʸᵖᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵈⁱˢᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ ⁿᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵘⁿⁱᵗʸ ᵃˢ ᵃ ʷʰᵒˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ ᵘˢᵉ ᵃⁿ ᴬᴵ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗᵒʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʷᵉᵃᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ * "Plankton?" Hanna's voice called. "You've been in there for a while." But there was no response from the bedroom. Karen's smile faded as she heard the silence. She knew her husband well enough to recognize when he'd reached his limit. She excused herself and went to check. Plankton was indeed on the bed, his eye squeezed shut. His body was rigid breathing shallow. Karen ached for him; she knew he was in the throes of sensory overload. Karen approached the bed gently, not wanting to startle him. She sat down beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Plankton," she said softly. "You ok?" He didn't move, didn't speak. He just lay there, a tense coil of discomfort. Karen knew to recognize the signs of his overwhelm. The way he curled tightly around his body, the shallow breaths that spoke of his struggle to regain control. He was in his own world now, one where the bombardment of Hanna's sounds and touch had become too much. "Plankton," she said again, her voice a gentle whisper in the room. "You don't have to be out there if you don't want to." The touches, the sounds, Hanna— all too much. Karen's expression filled with understanding. "It's alright," she assured him, her hand gently rubbing his back. "You don't have to force it." Plankton nodded, his body slowly relaxing under her touch. He let out a sigh. Karen knew Plankton's not one for crowded spaces or unexpected physical contact. "Hey, guys, everything ok in here?" Hanna's voice was cheerful, but there was a hint of concern that had crept in. She searched the room, her gaze landing on Plankton's rigid form. Her smile faltered for a second, a flicker of confusion crossing her features. "Is he ok?" "He's... overwhelmed," Karen said. She knew Hanna didn't mean any harm, but she also knew her friend's boundless enthusiasm could be to much for Plankton to handle. Hanna's expression grew more puzzled. "What's there to be overwhelmed about?" Her curiosity piqued. "What's going on with you Plankton?" she asked, taking a step closer to the bed. Plankton jolted slightly, but he remained silent, eye still closed. "I don't get it.." Karen took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Plankton's a bit... sensitive to stimulation," she began. "He needs his quiet time. Nothing against you, Hanna; just how he is." Hanna grew more concerned. "But I didn't mean to," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just wanted to have a good time." Karen patted Plankton's shoulder, her screen never leaving his face. "It's not you, Hanna," she assured. "It's just that to much noise, touch, all just gets to be to much for him." "How?" "Some people need more space than others. It's not a reflection on you or your company." "But I don't get it," Hanna said, her voice quiet. "What did I do?" "You didn't do anything wrong," Karen assured her, her hand still resting on Plankton's shoulder. "It's just that Plankton's sensory input is overwhelmed easily." Hanna looked from Karen to Plankton, full of questions. "But I didn't do anything weird; did I?" "No," she said, her voice calm and soothing. "It's just that Plankton isn't much... physical affection from anyone but me. And even then, it's on his terms." Hanna's expression softened, starting to reach out to gently touch Plankton's arm. "Don't," Karen said, placing a hand over hers to stop her. Hanna's hand hovered in mid-air, and she looked at Karen with confusion. Karen took a deep breath. "Plankton needs his space to recharge. And when it comes to physical touch, it's something that's... it's not something he's comfortable with, from just anyone." Hanna nods, her gaze still on Plankton. "But, you?" "We've found a balance that works for us. But it's something that took time to figure out. And even then, there are days when he needs more space than usual." Hanna nodded. "But he didn't say anything," she murmured. "I didn't know." "It's not something he talks about. He tries to be strong, to handle it, but sometimes it's just to much for him." "Why does he not flinch if you touch him, if it's sensory?" Hanna asked. Karen sighed. "It's complicated. I've known him for a long time, and we've built a level of trust. He's comfortable with my touch. But even then, it's a balancing act of knowing when he needs more and or when he needs less." Hanna nodded, her gaze thoughtful as she took a step back from the bed. "I had no idea," she murmured. "How long does it take for him to..." "It varies," Karen said. "Sometimes it's just minutes, other times can be hours." "Is he going to remember us talking right now?" Hanna asked. "It's hard to say," Karen replied, her gaze still on Plankton. "When he's like this, he's kind of... in his own world. Sometimes he's aware, sometimes he's not. It's like he's not present. The best thing is to just give him space," Karen said. "Let him come out of it on his own time. Sometimes talking to him helps, but not always." Hanna nodded. "I didn't mean to... I didn't know," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just wanted to make him feel included." Karen gave her a small, understanding smile. "It's alright, Hanna," she said. "You couldn't have known. Just remember, Plankton needs space, and for us to respect that." Hanna nodds, her gaze still on Plankton. "So, how does he act coming out of it?" "It depends," Karen said, her hand still on Plankton's shoulder. "Sometimes he's a bit groggy, other times he's just... tired. And sometimes he's a bit snappy." "What will he remember?" "Probably not much," Karen said, her voice low. "When he's like this, the world kind of... washes over him. He might remember snippets, but it's all pretty fuzzy." Hanna nods. "How do I show him I care?" "Just being a friend—that means the world to him. But sometimes, the best way to show you care is to give him the space he needs." "But I don't want him to think I'm ignoring him." "You're not," Karen assured her, her voice gentle. "Just be mindful of his own boundaries. Sometimes a simple 'How are you feeling?' or even showing interests in his likes, can mean more than any hug. It's a condition where the brain can't process all the information coming in from the senses at once. It's like your brain's circuits are overloaded, and you just... shut down." Hanna nodded, her gaze thoughtful as she took this in. "Is it ok if I can ask Plankton questions about it?" "Of course," Karen said, her voice gentle. "But just be mindful. He might not be up for a lot of talking, especially right now." Hanna took a deep breath and approached, her movements slow and deliberate. "Plankton?" He didn't respond, his body still taut with tension. Hanna looked to Karen for guidance, who offered a smile. "Plankton," she whispered, her voice a soft caress. "Can you hear me?" There was no response, but Karen could feel the tension in his body ease slightly. She knew he was listening, even if he couldn't bring himself to respond. "Plankton's born with a condition called sensory sensitivity," Karen began, her voice calm and measured. "It means that his brain has trouble interpreting and responding to all sensory information from his environment. It can be anything from sounds to touch." "So, like, when we were watching the movie, and I was all over the place with my feelings, that was probably a bit much for him?" "Exactly," Karen said, her voice gentle. "Everything's just... too much for him sometimes." Hanna's eyes searched Plankton's face, looking for any sign of discomfort. "But he didn't say any thing," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "He tries not to," Karen said, her eyes never leaving her husband. "He doesn't like to make a fuss. But when it gets to be too much, he just kind of... shuts down." "But how do you know when it's too much?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. "It's subtle," Karen said, her eyes still on Plankton. "He'll get tense, his breathing will change, bad mood, his eye might glaze over a bit. And when he gets really overwhelmed, he just... withdraws." "So, I shouldn't have grabbed his hand during the movie?" she asked, her voice filled with regret. "It's ok," Karen said, her voice soothing. "You didn't know. Just remember for next time." Hanna nodded. "But what if I miss the signs?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. "It's ok," Karen said, her voice soothing. "We're all learning. Just remember to be patient and pay attention. And if you're ever unsure, just ask." Hanna nodded, her hand now resting gently on the bed next to Plankton. "I'm sorry Plankton," she whispered. He didn't move, but Karen could see the tension in his body start to ease a bit more. She knew he heard Hanna, even if he couldn't respond. "Don't worry, Plankton," Hanna said, her voice gentle. "I'll be more careful next time. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Karen watched as Plankton's antennae slowly twitched, his breathing evening out as he began to come back to the world around him. It's a slow process, one Karen knew well. She gave Hanna a nod, a silent thank you for her understanding. "Why don't you go grab us board games, Hanna?" Karen suggested, voice low. "Give him a few to 'wake up'." Hanna nodded, her gaze lingering on Plankton before she turned and left the room. Karen watched the door close behind her before turning her attention back to Plankton. "It's ok, Plankton," she whispered, stroking his arm. "You're safe here."

ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰʸ ⁿᵉⁱᵍʰᵇᵒᵘʳ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʸˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴵᵗ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᶠᵘⁿ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁱᵐᵖʳᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵒ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵗᵃʸ ⁽ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵈⁱˢˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏ⁾ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵗᵒ ⁱⁿᶜˡᵘᵈᵉ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴳᵃʳʸ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁿᵃⁱˡ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶜʳᵃˢʰᵉˢ ʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ⸴ ᵐʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ'ˢ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵃⁿ ᵉʸᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵉᵃˢⁱˡʸ ᵃⁿᵍʳʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃⁿⁿᵒʸˢ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵃᵇˡᵉⁱˢᵗ ᵘⁿⁱⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡˡʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʷᵉˡˡ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵒᵈᵈˢ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵒʳᵏˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵖᵘᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ ʷᵃʸ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵒᵖᵖᵒˢⁱᵗᵉˢ ᵃᵗᵗʳᵃᶜᵗ⸴ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢʰⁱᵖ ᵈʸⁿᵃᵐⁱᶜ ᵈᵘᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃˡˡ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵇᵉ ⁿⁱᶜᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᴵ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵃ ᵖᵃᶜⁱᶠⁱˢᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵍᵉʳ ⁱˢˢᵘᵉˢ ᔆᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᶜᵒᵐᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ᶻᵒⁿᵉˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ʷʰⁱˡᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵒʳ ʰⁱˢ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵈᵐᵃ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ʰᵃˢ ˡⁱᵐⁱᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ⁱᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵖˡᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵗˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵘᵇᵇᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵒᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ʳᵒᶜᵏ‧ "ᵂᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒᵒˡ!" ʸᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵒᶜᵏ ᵒᶠᶠ‧ ᴵᵗˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ʷᵃʸ ᵒᶠ ˢʰᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵉˢ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ‧ ᵂᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁱᶜᵉ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵗˢ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ‧ "ᴱᵃˢʸ⸴ ᵇᵒʸ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵖᵒᵗ⸴ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ʰᵘᵍᵍᵉʳ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢⁿᵘᵍᵍˡᵉˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒᵗ; ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ⸴ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ˡᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵘᵍᵍᵉˢᵗ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵃʳᵈ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ⸴ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵐʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵉᵗⁱᵗⁱᵛᵉ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵃˡʸˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜⁱᵖᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʸᵒᵘ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ᵗᵃˢᵗᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉˡⁱᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᴮᵘᵗ ⁱᶠ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧‧‧" "ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ; ᵇᵉˢⁱᵈᵉˢ⸴ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒʳᵐᵘˡᵃ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᵇᵃʳⁿᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ˢᵖˡⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ⸴ ᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵐᵒʳˢᵉˡ! "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵏⁱᵈ‧‧‧" ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵒʷ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵍʳᵃᵗⁱᵗᵘᵈᵉ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵃʳᵉˡʸ ˢᵒ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ˢʰᵒʷˢ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒʸˢ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ ⁱⁿ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉˡᵉᵛⁱˢⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᔆᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴳᵃʳʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᴷⁱᵈ⸴ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒˢˢ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ᴵ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵒʳʳʸ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ˡᵉᵃⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ‧ "ᵂᵃⁱᵗ⸴ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ! ᵂʰᵃᵗ‧‧‧" "ᵀᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃᵗ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿⁿ‽" ᴵ ˢᵘᵍᵍᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᵂᵉ ᵃˡˡ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵒʸᵃˡ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉʳ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ⁱᶠ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᶜⁱʳᶜᵘᵐˢᵗᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ‧ ᴵᵗ'ᵈ ᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ʳⁱˢᵏ ᵒᶠ ᵗʳᵒᵘᵇˡᵉ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ⁱᵗˢ ʷᵒʳᵗʰ! ᴼⁿˡʸ ⁱᵐᵃᵍⁱⁿᵉ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᶜⁱᵛⁱˡ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˢʰᵃʳᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ‧‧‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉˢ ʰᵒʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ⁿⁱᶜᵉ⸴ ⁿᵒ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵛᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ'ʳᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵒᵈᵈˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈˢ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵒʸᵃˡᵗʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ⸴ ᵃˡᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵃᵍʳᵉᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵍᵒᵃˡ ⁱⁿ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ⁱˢ ˢʰᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵍʳᵉᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵒⁿ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᶜᵃᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵒᵘˢᵉ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵃᵐᵐᵉ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉˡᵉᵛⁱˢⁱᵒⁿ‧ ᴵ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵗᵗᵉⁿᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴵᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉ ᵃᵗ ⁸ ᵒ'ᶜˡᵒᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗˡʸ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗⁱʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ˡᵉᵃⁿᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘⁿᵃʷᵃʳᵉˢ‧ ᴼⁿˡʸ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵃᵐᵐᵉ‧ ᴼʰ ʰᵒʷ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᵗ; ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵘʳⁱᵒᵘˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᴴᵒʷ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵉ?" ᴵ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᵂᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴵˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵐʸ ᵗᵒᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˡıᵉ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗᵃᵇˡʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵃ̊ʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ⁱˢ ⁱᵗ?" ᴵ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸ⸴ ʳᵒᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᴼʰ⸴ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵗ ʷᵒʳᵏ! ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ˢᵘˢᵖⁱᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ⸴ ⁿᵒʳ ᵇᵉ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵒᵉ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵉ?" ᴵ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒ ʳᵉᵈⁿᵉˢˢ‧ "ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᵍᵒ ᵉᵃˢʸ ᵒⁿ ⁱᵗ‧" "ᵂⁱˡˡ ᵈᵒ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ "ᴸᵃˢᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ʳᵉᶜᵃˡˡ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿ ᶠᵒᶜᵘˢˢᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜʳᵉᵉⁿ ᵇʸ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃˡᶠ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵃᵐᵐᵉ!" ᴵ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʲᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ⸴ ʳᵉᵍʳᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᴵ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ⁱᵗ; ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵈᵐⁱᵗ ᵛᵘˡⁿᵉʳᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ‧ ᴬˢ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵗˢ⸴ ᴵ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵐʸ ˢᵘᵖᵉʳᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ᵈᵉᵗᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ "ᵂʰʸ ʸᵉ ˡⁱᵐᵖⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵇᵒⁱ?" "ᴵ ᵗʳⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ ʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᴵ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃˢᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᴺⁱᶜᵉ ˢᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᴶᵉˢᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᶠᵉʳᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ; ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ'ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ!" ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ⸴ ʷᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᶜᵘˢᵗᵒᵐᵉʳˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᴼⁿˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵘⁿᵘˢᵘᵃˡ ⁽ⁱᶠ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ⁾ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ˡᵃᶜᵏ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ⸴ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧ "ᴸᵉᵗ'ˢ ˢᵉᵉ; ʰᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ʲᵉˡˡʸᶠⁱˢʰ⸴ ᵏᵃʳᵃᵗᵉ⸴ ᵐᵉʳᵐᵃⁱᵈ ᵐᵃⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵃʳⁿᵃᶜˡᵉ ᵇᵒʸ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵒᶠᶠ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵉᵛᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ; ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵃʸ⸴ ᵃˡᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉ ⁱᵗ!" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʲᵘᵐᵖᵉᵈ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᵂʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳᵉ‧‧‧ "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗ‧ ᵁⁿˡᵉˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ˡᵘⁿᶜʰ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ "ᴼʰ⸴ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳᵉ? ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉ ᵐᵉᵃˡ‧ ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ!" ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢʰᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ‧ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵃᶜʳᵒˢˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵉᵉᵗ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵇʳᵃⁱⁿˢᵗᵒʳᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵈᵒ‧ ᴼⁿᶜᵉ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ⸴ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ʷᵃⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵃˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉʳᵉ‧ "ᴾʰᵉʷ; ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵈᵃʸ ᵒⁿ ᵐʸ ᶠᵉᵉᵗ⸴ ᵃˡˡ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᵃᵛᵒⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵘⁿᵈᵘᵉ ᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐʸ ᵗᵒᵉ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˡˡ ᵈᵃʸ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧ "ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵗᵒⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧‧" ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ⸴ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶜᶜᵘʳʳᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗᵈᵒᵒʳˢ ⁱⁿ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ⁱⁿᵛᵉˢᵗⁱᵍᵃᵗᵉ⸴ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧‧‧ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ᵇˡᵃᵇᵇᵉᵈ; ⁱᵗ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵉⁿᵈ ʷᵉˡˡ‧ "ᴾᴸᴬᴺᴷᵀᴼᴺ‽" ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᶜʳᵉᵃᵐᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶠᵘʳʸ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵘⁿᵇᵉᵏⁿᵒʷⁿˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴹʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃᵗ ᴾᵃᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ‧ "ᴳᵉᵗ ˡᵒˢᵗ⸴ ᴾᵃᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ!" ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ‧ "ᶻⁱᵖ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ; ʰᵉ'ˢ ʳᵉˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ!" "ᴴᵉ ⁱˢ ᵐᵉ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉ; ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳ!" "ᴴᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˢ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡᵒᵘᵈ‧‧‧ "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ⸴ ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʸᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵉᵖ ᵃˢⁱᵈᵉ!" "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴵˡˡ ᶜʳᵘˢʰ ʸᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵐⁱᵗʰᵉʳᵒᵒⁿˢ ᔆʰᵉˡ‧‧‧" "ᴺᵒ! ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜˡᵒᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵐ ˡᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵗᵃʸ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʰᵃᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ˡⁱᵐᵖ ᵃˡˡ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴴᵉ'ˢ ˡⁱᵐᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵒʳᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴱⁱᵗʰᵉʳ ʷᵃʸ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵖᵘⁿⁱˢʰ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉ ᶠʳᵃᵗᵉʳⁿⁱᶻᵉ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧‧" "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ᶠᴵᴿᴱ ᴴᴵᴹ!" ᵂᵉ ᵃˡˡ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ˢʰᵒᶜᵏ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᶜʰᵒ ᵒᶠ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᵂᵉ ᵃˡˡ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵒᵒˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᵗᵉ‧‧‧ "ᴸⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ; ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ˡᵒᵛᵉˢ ʰⁱˢ ʲᵒᵇ ᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ‧‧‧" ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵗᵉᵃʳʸ ᵉʸᵉᵈ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢᶜᵒʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵗᵗˡᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᵍᵃᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ; ᵇᵘᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵏⁱⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵉⁱᵗʰᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᵘˢ ᵃᵗ ᵒᵘʳ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ! ᴴᵒʷ ᵈᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᔆⁱⁿᶜᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵈᵒ‧‧‧" "ᵂᴱ ᴬᴿᴱ ᶠᴿᴵᴱᴺᴰᔆ⸴ ᴬᴺᴰ ᴴᴱ ᴰᴼᴱᔆᴺ'ᵀ ᴰᴱᔆᴱᴿⱽᴱ ᴱᴵᵀᴴᴱᴿ ᴼᶠ ᵁᔆ!" ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵗᵒᵐᵖᵉᵈ⸴ ʰᵃʳᵈ‧ "ᵂʰʸ ᵃʳᵉⁿ'ᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᴿᴬᵀᴴᴱᴿ ᵀᴬᴷᴱ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴮᴸᴬᶜᴷ ᴱʸᴱ ᵀᴴᴬᴺ ᵀᴼ ᴴᴬⱽᴱ ᴹʸ ᶠᴿᴵᴱᴺᴰ ᶠᴵᴿᴱᴰ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃˢ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ʷⁱˡˡⁱⁿᵍˡʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᴬ ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ‧ "ᴳᵒ ᵃʰᵉᵃᵈ⸴ ᵉᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ‧ ᔆᑫᵘᵃˢʰ ᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧‧‧" ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˢᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵗᵒᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵘᵇᵇᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴵⁿ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ⸴ ʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉʳⁱᵗʸ ⁱⁿ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ'ˢ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᴺᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃⁿʸ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧

I love object shows🎉🎉🎉🎉

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ᵀʰᵉ ᴱⁿᵈ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ╰┈➤𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ╰┈➤𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 ᵀʰᵉ ᶠˡʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵈʳᵒⁿᵉ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ‧ "ʸᵉˢ!" ᴴᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ! ᴮᵘᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵐᵒᵒᵈ ⁱᵐᵐᵉᵈⁱᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ⁱᵗ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠʳᵒᶻᵉⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳ ᶠᵉᵃʳ‧ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵍᵃᶻᵉ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱᵗ ʳᵉᵃᵈ 'ᶜᵒᵖᵉᵖᵒᵈ' ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ⸴ ʷⁱᵗʰ 'ᵖʳᵒᵗᵒᶻᵒᵃ' ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ ˢᵃᵘᶜᵉ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵃˢ ᵘⁿᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍˡʸ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵖᵉʳ⸴ ʰⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ˢᵉᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᔆᵃʸ ᵇʸᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢᵖᵒᵘˢᵉ'ˢ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵇᵉʸᵒⁿᵈ ʳᵉᵖᵃⁱʳ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵇʳᵒᵏᵉⁿ ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉˢ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵘᵖ‧‧‧" "ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ! ᴺᵒ⸴ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵘⁿᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʰⁱᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ʳᵉⁿᵈᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ‧ "ᴺᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵃˢ ᴵ ᵖᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱⁿ ᵐᵉ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵘⁿⁱᵗ! ʸᵒᵘ'ˡˡ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒˢˢ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵘⁿⁱᵗ‧ "ᴷᵉᵉᵖ ʸᵒᵘ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵃ ⁿᵉʷ ᵇᵃᵗᶜʰ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʷᵉ ʳᵘⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ᵐᵉᵃᵗ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵇᵉʰⁱⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ‧ "ᔆᵒʳʳʸ⸴ ᵇᵒʸ; ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵃᶠᶠᵒʳᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ᵒʳ ʰᵉˡᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴳᵒᵒᵈⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ!" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˡᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃ ᶻᵒᵒᵖˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵘˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵇᵃᵗᶜʰ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵒᵇᵇᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵒ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʷᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ‧‧‧" "ᵂʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ? ᴬʰʰ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱⁿᶜᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʰⁱ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᵂᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʳᵒᵘᵇˡᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵃʳᵉ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ⁱˢ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳⁿᵉᵃᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧ ᵂᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿ ᵉˢᶜᵃᵖᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ˡᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ‧ ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜⁱᵖᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ'ᵛᵉ ˢᵘˢᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒʳᵐᵘˡᵃ‧ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ⁿᵒʷ ᵒⁿ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ; ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ʳᵘⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵒʷ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴵⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵃᵐᵇᵉʳ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ "ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ⁱᵐᵐᵉᵈⁱᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ˢᵘᶜᶜᵘᵐᵇ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ‧ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᵗᶜʰᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ⸴ ˢᵒ ᴵ'ˡˡ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴺᵒʷ⸴ ᵍᵒᵒᵈᵇʸᵉ‧‧‧" ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ˢʰᵒᵖ ˡᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵒᵉˡᵃᶜᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵘⁿˡᵒᶜᵏ‧ "ᵀᵒᵒᵏ ᵐᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵃᵈˡʸ ᵇᵉᵃᵗᵉⁿ ᵇᵒᵈʸ‧ "ᴼʰ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ "ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠʳᵃⁿᵗⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ ᵖᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉʳ ᵗʳᵉᵉ ᵈᵒᵐᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵖʳᵉˢˢᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵇᵘᶻᶻᵉʳ‧ "ᵂᵉ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ! ᴴᵘʳʳʸ⸴ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ!" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵉᑫᵘⁱᵖᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧ "ᴴᵉ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵃˡⁱᵛᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ‧ ᵂᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃᶜᵗ ᑫᵘⁱᶜᵏˡʸ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃˢᵏ ᑫᵘᵉˢᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ; ᵈᵒ ᵃˢ ᴵ ˢᵃʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ˢᵃʸ ⁱᵗ!" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴮᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵈʸⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᵂᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵉ ᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵃᵈ ˢʰᵃᵖᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵗʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵉᵃᵈⁱˡʸ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ; ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵃˡˡ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉᵃⁿʷʰⁱˡᵉ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵇʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃʰᵉᵃᵈ; ᵉˣᵖᵒˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜⁱᵖᵉ⸴ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵈᵉᶜᵒʸ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵉᵗᶜ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵍⁱˢᵗᵉʳ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ‧‧‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉʸᵉ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵃˡᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵒᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ; ʷᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵃ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ʰⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧‧‧ ᴵ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ⸴ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵘʳᵉ⸴ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ⸴ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵉⁿᵈ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵖʸ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᴾᵉʳᶜʰ ᴾᵉʳᵏⁱⁿˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉʷˢ ᶜʳᵉʷ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧‧‧" "ʸᵉˢ!" 'ᴾᵉʳᶜʰ ᴾᵉʳᵏⁱⁿˢ ˡⁱᵛᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜᵉⁿᵉ⸴ ᵃˢ ʷᵉ ˢᵉᵉ ᴹʳ‧ ᴱᵘᵍᵉⁿᵉ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵍᵘⁱˡᵗʸ ᵒᶠ ᵘⁿˢᵖᵉᵃᵏᵃᵇˡᵉ ᶜʳⁱᵐᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵗʳᵒᶜⁱᵗⁱᵉˢ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ʰᵃˢ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᶠᵃᶜᵉˢ ᶜʰᵃʳᵍᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ʳᵒᵇᵒˢˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ᵛⁱ́ᵃ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿⁱᶜⁱᵈᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃʳʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵘᵗᶜʰᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ‧' puƎ ǝɥꓕ

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haii im looking for some friends!! if u like object shows pls add my dc!! @justkaavya thank u ✩.˚₊

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wassup yall so i'm looking for sourcemates;.. uhhh i'm a fictionkin andddd my source is inanimate insanity invitational; i am winged dr fizz, albino cabby and canon(?) tea kettle heh my tumblr is dr-fizzovich my yt is bassycello my strawpage is wingedfizzy (https://wingedfizzy.straw.page/) ꄗ 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓀𝓎𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 👅𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂𝕾𝖐𝖎𝖇𝖎𝖉𝖎 𝕿𝖔𝖎𝖑𝖊𝖙°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ _ _ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⢀ ⣀ ⣀ _ _ ⣀ ⣀ ⣀ ⡀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ _ _ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⢸ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⡟ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ _ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ _ _ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ _ _ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⣈ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣇ ⡀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ _ _ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ _ _ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⢀ ⣤ ⣤ ⣤ ⡀ ⠀ ⣠ ⣼ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⠿ ⠿ ⢯ ⡿ ⠿ ⢤ ⡀ ⠀ ⣀ _ _ ⣀ ⣀ ⡀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ _ _ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ _ _ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⢰ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣾ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⡝ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠈ ⠸ ⠗ ⠽ ⣼ ⣿ ⣿ _ _ ⣿ ⣿ ⢆ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ _ _ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ _ _ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠈ ⢿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣷ ⣴ ⣷ ⣧ ⣤ ⡀ ⢰ ⣷ ⣻ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⡏ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ _ _ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ _ _ ⠉ ⠉ ⢹ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⡝ ⣴ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣯ ⣍ ⠀ ⠈ ⡌ ⡟ ⠛ ⠛ ⠋ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ _ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ _ _ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ _ _ ⣸ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣽ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⠣ ⣺ ⣗ ⡇ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ _ _ _ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ _ _ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⢠ ⣿ ⣟ ⣝ ⢻ ⡿ ⠟ ⣻ ⡟ ⠋ ⠉ ⢋ ⡟ ⣷ ⠎ _ _ _ ⣄ ⢁ ⠊ ⡆ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ _ _ _ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ _ _ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠘ ⣿ ⣿ ⣿ ⡇ ⠀ ⡀ ⣿ ⡧ ⠀ ⡴ ⡾ ⠰ ⠁ ⢙ ⣦ ⣭ ⣼ ⡇ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ _ _ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ _ _ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ _ _ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ 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⠀⣠⠾⠙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠹⢁⠑⠀⡘⡿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢂⣄⡀⠘⣳⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣼⣷⣏⣠⣌⣨⣿⣿⣿⡟⠋⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣮⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢣⣈⠁⢃⡹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣖⠎⠁⠀⠁⡸⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⡿⣿⣯⡿⢵⣿⣿⣿⡶⢆⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⠛⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣗⠑⠈⠁⡹⣿⠻⣿⣿⣷⣵⣦⣤⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠹⣿⣯⣽⣿⣾⣷⡟⠙⠻⢯⠋⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠙⠨⢔⠅⣿⡀⠈⣻⣿⣿⡇⠑⠫⠑⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠈⠻⢿⣿⣿⡟⠻⢦⣤⠃⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡋⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣞⣣⢴⢺⣿⡇⢠⣿⣿⣿⠂⠂⠀⠃⢡⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⡿⢿⣤⣤⡜⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⡋⡷⡂⢀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀⣗⣿⣓⣾⣿⠇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣧⠠⠀⢲⣸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⠿⠿⠿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣶⣿⣿⣶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⢀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⢀⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⡁⢠⣤⣶⣾⣿⣶⣶⣤⣀⠀⠈ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⡀⢀⡀⢀⢀⠀⡀⢲⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⣁⣥⣾⣶⣍⠻⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡙⢿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣙⣛⣋⣼⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⡉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣠⣴⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⢿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢰⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣧⣄⣀⣂⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀ ⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠉⠉⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠁⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠻⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠙⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁

May 20th, 2010 My best friend suffers from allergies to 17 different types of foods. A while back, a boy asked me for a list of these foods. That boy is now her boyfriend. He changed his entire diet just so he could kiss her whenever he wanted. He vowed never to eat those foods again and so far hasn’t. His LGMH

⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣾⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⡄⠀⠀⢱⠈⡀⠀⠀⡆⠷⠀⠰⣾⣿⣦⢠⠀⠀⠀⠘⣷⡀⢿ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢇⢡⠀⠀⠸⡄⢧⠀⠀⣠⢸⣷⠀⢻⣿⢿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣧⠈ ⠀⠆⠀⠀⠠⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢘⡄⠀⠀⠀⠈⡟⢻⢹⣿⠟⠁⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⣥⠈⡄⢀⣿⠿⠿⠃⠈⠁⢾⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣇ ⠀⢰⠀⠀⠀⢢⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣧⠀⠀⡀⠀⢁⣼⠜⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⠇⡃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿ ⠀⢸⣧⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣇⠀⠘⡀⢿⣿⣿⠄⠀⠈⠀⠈⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⡡⠂⠀⢀⣤⣶⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻ ⠀⠈⣿⡆⠀⠀⢹⣿⡿⠀⡀⣧⠈⣿⡿⠀⠀⢰⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⠁⠁⢠⡆⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠇⠀⠐⠀⢿⡄⠀⠀⠀⢸ ⠀⠀⠈⣷⠀⠀⠆⢿⡇⠀⣇⢹⡄⠻⠃⠀⠀⢸⡎⡄⠀⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⢱⠀⣠⣼⠇⣸⣿⣿⠟⡋⠀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠈⡇⠀⠺⢇⢨ ⠀⠀⠂⢿⣀⠀⢰⠸⠁⠀⠿⢜⣃⠐⠀⠀⢸⢸⡇⡇⠀⢰⠀⠀⢀⣠⣶⣿⣧⡇⢀⠱⣈⣾⣿⡿⠡⢊⡽⣨⣵⡇⢀⠀⠀⢦⠀⠀⣿⢿ ⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠸⠃⠀⠀⢚⣛⣛⠀⠀⠠⣾⢸⣷⣿⠀⡾⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⣸⣿⣿⠟⡩⢞⡵⣫⡠⢹⣿⠇⠘⠀⠀⠰⠀⣀⣿⣾ ⡀⠀⠀⠘⣩⠀⠸⢃⠀⠘⠉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠉⠐⠺⣿⣿⣴⣿⡌⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⣿⣿⣿⣷⣘⣛⣩⣞⣛⣻⠼⣿⠀⣯⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⣿⣿ ⣇⠀⠀⠈⡿⠀⠀⠁⠀⣀⠐⢚⠓⣶⡾⠃⣰⣶⣭⣻⣿⣿⣿⡸⣿⣿⣿⣿⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⢹⣼⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿ ⢹⣶⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣵⣟⣤⣥⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡜⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡎⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿ ⡎⢿⠟⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⣿⠀⡀⠀⠀⠈⢿⣿ ⣴⣄⢺⣧⡀⠀⠄⠙⠻⢛⣭⣽⡛⢿⣿⠿⠛⣡⠶⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⣿⠇⠀⡇⠀⣤⣄⡀⠻ ⢹⣿⣄⠁⠱⡀⠀⢉⢦⣙⣻⠥⠜⣂⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⡇⣸⣿⣿⣿⣷ ⠈⠊⠉⠓⠀⠀⠀⠀⢦⡹⣿⣷⣦⢩⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠎⢩⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⢱⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⢋⡀⠑⠀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠳⡌⣽⣿⣦⡻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠁⣠⣶⣶⡀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⢠⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠸⣿⣦⡘⠿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢾⠻⣿⣷⡝⢿⣿⣿⡟⠉⢛⡍⢉⣉⣤⣤⡀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣧⢠⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣧⡸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠈⠉⠙⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠢⣁⠛⣿⣷⣁⣿⣿⣇⠸⢸⠐⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⠸⣿⣿⠏⢠⣷⣦⣄⣀⡀⠙⠗⣛⡩⣵⣾⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠂⠌⠳⢌⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⢄⠋⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡆⣿⠃⠀⡾⢟⣋⣩⣤⡶⢞⣙⣥⣶⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠻⠟⢀⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢉⣈⠙⠿⠿⣿⣦⣑⠲⢌⡻⠿⣿⣿⡿⠟⣋⣴⣶⠃⡰⢠⣶⣿⡿⢟⣡⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠳⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣤⣉⠣⢶⡶⣢⢬⣭⣕⣒⣒⠒⠶⠆⢧⣭⠟⠁⢚⣱⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⡄⠀⠀⠘⡆⢄⠈⠑⠄⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⣿⣿⣶⣤⣁⣊⠉⠞⣚⣡⣭⣥⣴⣦⣭⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⢻⣻⡘⡆⠀⠸⡌⡀⠄⠈⠊⠢⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣷⠹⢿⣿⠟⣩⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣱⡙⣥⢈⣆⠀⢕⡁⣨⢂⠀⠑⡱⡀⠀⢰⣿⣿⡷⢞⡡⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

🇮🇪 Cavan Weekly News Published in Cavan, county Cavan SUDDEN DEATH. On Saturday night last, a man named John FAULKNER, residing at Aghaloora, near Kinaleck, was choked by a piece of meat sticking in his throat. This accident is becoming frequent in this neighbourhood, a man named DOWDAL having lost his life the other day at Finea from a similar case. This ought to teach people that good digestion depends very much on proper mastication of our food. December 6, 1878 🇮🇪

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if ur queer and like object shows add my discord its ceru134n ( ^ω^ ) i suck at conversations so um yeah (ᵕ—ᴗ—) ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

🖌 X 💡 lightbulb x painty!!

⠾⡿⠻⠟⠿⠻⠟⠿⠻⠟⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠛⠟⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠛⠟⠟⠻⠟⠻⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠚⠛⠛⠛⠓⠛⠛⠛⢛⠛⠛⠛⠚⠛⢺⡇⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢢⣥⣀⣀⡤⠤⠤⠤⠤⢤⣤⢤⡤⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣧⣶⣴⣦⣦⣤⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣿⣇⡶⠶⠶⠾⢯⡿⠶⠶⠶⣶⣶⣶⣦⣤⣴⣤⣄ ⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣿⡏⠉⠉⠉⠉⠙⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠦⠤⠌⢻ ⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣾⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸ ⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣿⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿ ⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿ ⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿ ⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠻⠿⠿⠿⠛⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⣿⣦⢤⣤⣤⣤⣼⣿⣿⣿⣆⣀⢀⠀⡀⠀⠀⣸⣿ ⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢸⡇⠀⠁⠀⠉⠉⠁⢛⣿⠋⠉⠉⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠋⠉ ⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠿⠛⠞⠳⠞⠳⠞⠳⠞⠳⠞⠳⠞⠶⠳⠞⠶⠳⠞⠶⠳⠳⠞⠳⠞⠳⠞⠇⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣆⠐⡂⢆⠰⣀⠢⡐⢄⠢⡐⢄⠢⡐⢠⠀⡄⣶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠶⠾⠯⠿⠽⠿⠽⠯⠿⠿⠿⠽⠿⠯⠿⠯⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⡘⠐⢂⠒⣀⠒⠰⢈⠰⠐⢂⢂⠑⠂⠥⠐⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⣆⡈⣉⢉⡈⣀⢁⣈⢀⡁⣉⢁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣧⣬⣥⣦⣬⣤⣬⣤⣥⣦⣭⣤⣦⣬⣥⣦⣥⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⢈⠀⠡⠈⠄⠡⠈⠄⠡⢈⠠⠁⡈⠄⠁⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⡇⠀⣤⡾⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⣀⣈⣀⣁⢂⡠⢁⣂⡐⣀⢂⡐⣀⣈⠀⢀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⢄⣧⡟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⣾⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⠀⠠⢀⠠⠀⠄⠠⠀⠄⠠⠀⠄⠠⢀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⡿⣿⣄⣤⣶⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠐⡀⠄⠠⠀⠄⠠⠀⠄⠠⠀⠄⠠⠀⠂⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠁⡟⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠇⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠠⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⡇⠀⠙⠿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⡆⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⣀⣈⣀⣀⣁⣈⣀⣁⣈⣀⣁⣈⣀⣁⣠⣀⣿⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣸⡧⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠙⠋⠛⠙⠋⠛⠙⠋⠛⠙⠋⠛⠙⠋⠛⠙⠋⠛⠉⠋⠙⠉⠋⠙⠉⠋⠙⢻⣽⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠛⠟⠻⠗⠀⠀⠀ ⡄⣇⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠑⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠛⠛⠛⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠛⠛⠛⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠛⠛⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠻⠿⠿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⠿⠿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⠿⠿⠿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⠿⠿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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🍚川

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ⅡⅧ

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🌮II

🌮2️⃣

🌮②

🌮Ⅱ

📱4️⃣

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⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠙⠛⠛⠛⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢁⠔⠚⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⠒⢄⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠬⠬⠽⠉⠉⠝⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⡷⠈⡆⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢉⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢩⣋⣿⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣘⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣉⡉⢹⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢀⡃⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢠⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⡇⠀⢨⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⡆⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠇⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢰⡇⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠉⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠘⡇⠀⢘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢀⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⢐⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⢐⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠉⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⠟⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⢿⣿ ⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠈⢻ ⣇⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠋⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⡿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸ ⣿⣷⣦⣤⣤⣤⡀⠙⢿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣀⠉⠙⠛⠛⠛⠉⣁⣠⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⡇⢸⣿⡿⠋⠀⣠⣦⣄⣤⣾⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣀⠈⠻⠀⡇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⡇⠘⠋⢀⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⡇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⡇⢠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⠀⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⠀⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠋⠀⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠘⢄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠜⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⣈⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⡉⠉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⡉⠉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣁⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠛⠛⠛⠿⠿⠇⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢀⣀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢀⣀⡀⠀⠀⢀⣀⢼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

🪵 🍕 🪵 🥞 🐾 🥞 🪵 🍕 🪵

🍭𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕨𝕓𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕤𝕨𝕚𝕣𝕝🍭

🦷⛓ *+:｡.｡𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖙 𝖙𝖔𝖔𝖙𝖍｡.｡:+*🧁🍴

me📱4️⃣

me📱4️⃣

📄×🍊🧃

NEUROBEHAVIORAL PLANKTON ii (Autistic author) The doctor stepped in, his tentacles moving gently as he spoke. "Mr. Plankton, it's important to stay calm. This is a big change. Can you tell me your name?" Plankton's gaze flicked from Karen to Dr. Kelp, his expression a mask of confusion. "I'm Plankton," he managed to say, his voice shaky. The doctor nodded, his tentacles still and calm. "Good. That's good, Mr. Plankton. Do you know where you are?" Plankton's eye darted around the room again, his breathing growing rapid and shallow. He looked down and then back up at Karen. "What's happening?" he repeated for the third time, his voice now a little more frantic. Karen's heart was in her throat. The doctor's explanation was beginning to take root in her mind, and she could see the stark reality of their situation. Plankton's repetition, his difficulty with understanding new surroundings and his increased sensitivity to sound—these were all hallmarks of his new autism. The doctor continued his assessment. "Mr. Plankton, can you tell me your wife's name?" he prompted. Plankton's gaze shifted to Karen, his expression becoming more focused, as if her presence was the only familiar thing in the room. "Karen," he said, his voice softening slightly. The doctor nodded, making a note on his clipboard. "Good. Now, can you tell me what happened before you woke up?" Plankton's eye flitted back to Karen, searching for answers. He began to rock slightly, his body moving in a rhythmic motion, a common self-soothing behavior for those on the autism spectrum. Karen recognized it immediately but seeing it in Plankton was jarring. His gaze darted around the room, his pupil dilating with every new sound or movement. The doctor's tentacles were a blur of activity making notes. "Mr. Plankton, I see you're feeling You're almost ready to go back home with Karen." Dr. Kelp says calmly. "Just one more question, if you don't mind. Now, can you tell me if you have any pets?" Plankton's eye flitted around the room. "Pets? Spot! Yes, Spot. Amoeba puppy; Spot.." The doctor nodded, his tentacles still scribbling notes. "Very good, Mr. Plankton. It seems like your long-term memory is intact, which is a positive sign. Now Karen can take you home!" Karen felt a wave of relief crash over her, but it was tinged with the stark reality that their life was never going to be the same. Plankton's autistic mannerisms were now a constant reminder of the accident—his newfound need for routine, his heightened sensitivity to surroundings, and the way his eye would dance around the room as he tried to make sense of his environment. As they arrived home, the stark reality of their new life hit Karen like a wave. His once-quick steps had been replaced with a cautious shuffle, as if the very floor beneath him was unpredictable. Inside, Plankton was drawn to the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock, his eye fixated on the second hand's journey. Karen watched him. His newfound need for predictability was overwhelmingly apparent. "Let's sit down," she suggested, guiding him to their couch, which was now occupied by Spot. Plankton's gaze flitted around the living room, his eye alighting on his beloved amoeba puppy Spot. "Spot," he murmured, his voice tentative, as if unsure if his words would have the same effect they once did. The pup looked up at him, its blob-like form shifting slightly with excitement. But instead of the weariness Plankton has shown today, he joyfully watched Spot's movements. Karen felt a moment of warmth— his love for Spot hadn't changed, nor their usual interactions. The doctor had told her that routines were vital for those with his condition. So, she decided to start their day with a familiar activity: breakfast. Plankton's eye lit up at the sight of the familiar kitchen. He took his usual seat at the table, his hands fidgeting with the napkin. Karen noticed his meticulous arrangement of his silverware, the way he lined up his plate and cup perfectly parallel to the edges. As she prepared their meal, she could feel his gaze on her, his eye darting between her and Spot, who was now playfully chasing his own tail in a loop around the living room. He began to hum a tune, his voice off-key and repetitive. Karen's with love despite the pain she felt. The clanging of pans was loud in the silence, making Plankton flinch—this was going to be so much harder than she had anticipated. The doctor's instructions echoed in her mind: stick to routine, keep things simple. Karen set the breakfast plates down carefully, each item placed exactly where Plankton liked it. His eye grew wide as she slid his plate closer. He stared at the food for a moment, then picked up his spoon. The clink of metal on porcelain was like a gunshot to his heightened sensitivity. He dropped the spoon, his hands shooting up to cover his head in distress. "It's okay, sweetheart," Karen soothed, moving quickly to his side. She retrieved the spoon and set it aside, her hand trembling slightly. "You don't have to eat right now," she said softly, her voice a gentle caress against the tension in the room. Plankton nodded slightly, his breathing slowing as his hands uncovered his ears. He fidgeted in his chair, his eye darting to the ceiling as if searching for something. "Let's go read a book," Karen suggested, desperate to find anything that might calm his nerves. Plankton nodded slightly, his gaze still unfocused. He stood up carefully, his body moving with the precision of a man who knew his world had changed. As they approached the bookshelf, his eye caught a glint of metal from the corner of the room. The invention that had brought them here lay in a tangled heap, its wires and gears silent and ominous, giving him déjà vu. Plankton stopped, his body rigid, his gaze locked on the machine. He stared unblinking, his mind racing back to the crash. Karen notices his suddenly unmoving form and gets concerned. "Plankton?" she calls softly, but he doesn't react. His entire being seemed to be consumed by the wreckage of his former life. The invention, a testament to his former brilliance, now a grim reminder of the accident. "Plankton, honey," Karen's voice was barely a whisper as she tried to get him to talk. He didn't move. The invention, a tangled web of wires and gears, seemed to hold his gaze captive. It was the very machine that had caused this transformation. Karen followed his gaze, her heart sinking as she realized the source of his distress. "Let's go to another room," she suggested gently, her hand resting on his arm. But he didn't move. Karen felt the weight of the moment settle heavily on her shoulders. It was time to face the reality of their new life together—a life where Plankton's once sharp wit and innovative spirit were now clouded by a disorder she was only beginning to understand. Her heart swelled with sorrow as she observed his interaction with the inanimate objects around him. The love she had for him remained unshaken, but the thought of what they had lost—what he had lost—was almost too much to bear. "Come on," she coaxed, her voice gentle as a lullaby. "Let's go to the living room. I'll read you a story?" Yet Plankton remains frozen. So Karen made a decision. She couldn't bear the thought of that accursed machine looming over them, a constant reminder of the tragic turn their lives had taken. With a fierce determination she hadn't felt in ages, she strode over to the invention and began to dismantle it, piece by painful piece. The metal clanked and clattered as she worked, her movements quick and sure, each part coming off with a satisfying crunch. Plankton's eye followed her, his expression unreadable. When the last piece was removed, his gaze lifted to meet hers, his eye filled with something that looked akin to gratitude. "Thank you, Karen," Plankton murmured, his voice a quiet rumble in the stillness of the now bare room. Karen paused in her task, her eyes meeting his with a surprised expression. This was the first time since the accident that he had spoken to her with anything other than fear or confusion. "You're welcome," she said, her voice choked with emotion.

TEETHIES ii The nurse dimmed lights and adjusted the bed, giving Plankton's body a chance to recover from the wisdom tooth surgery. Gently, Karen began to hum a tune she knew Plankton loved. The melody filled the room, wrapping around them like a warm blanket. His breathing grew a little easier, the tension in his hand loosening slightly. Plankton stirred, eye fluttering open to reveal a world still blurred by the fog of anesthesia. "Where... what...?" Plankton slurred. "Who... who are you?" "The dentist had to get your wisdom teeth out in surgery." Karen told him. "Wis...dommm...surgery? I don't...I don't remembe--- much." Plankton says. "Had to take them out. You've been asleep for a while." The nurse said. The door to the room creaked open to SpongeBob, his face a picture of concern. "Plankton!" he exclaimed. "How are ya?" Plankton, still groggy from the surgery, tried to form a coherent sentence. "S-SpongeBob," he slurred. "M-more wike... 'Arrr, matey' than usual, I s'pose." Karen rolled her pixel eyes. "It's the anesthesia." Plankton chuckled. "Ahoy ther- Spongey! Aye, it's awh’ 'cause of tweasare... I mean, surgery," he corrected, his speech still swaying. "You two are always so... " Karen trailed off, searching for the right word. "Inseparabubble?" Plankton suggested. Sponge Bob's laughter bubbled up again. "You mean, no Krabby Patty stealing schemes?" "Thath's righ'. No mow... Krabby... Patties... fow awhile." The words came out in a drawn-out slur, his head lolling slightly on the pillow. "Thath's... wath I wath thhinking," his speech still slurred but fading as his eyelid growing heavy. "Arr, thith... thith way, me... hearty," Plankton mumbled, as the nurse helped 'em into the car. "Arr, me... tweasuwe... home,". Sponge Bob watched his eyelid grew heavier. Plankton's head lolled back against the seat and his mouth fell open slightly, emitting a soft snore. "He's gonna be out for a bit," Karen said, glancing in the rearview mirror. "The anesthesia usually takes a few hours to wear off completely. He'll be fine." He reached out and gently patted Plankton's arm, whispering, "Don't worry, buddy. We're almost there." "We're home, Plankton," Karen said, her voice a gentle nudge. Sponge Bob turned to see Plankton's chest rising and falling in deep, even breaths, his mouth open in snore's. His usually scheming eye were shut tight. Karen carefully opened the door. Sponge Bob looked at Plankton, who was still out cold. Sponge Bob leaned over the seat, his arms wrapping around Plankton's frail body. Plankton's head lolled back, his mouth still open in snore's. "Should we... should we wake him?" "Let him rest, Sponge Bob. He's had a rough day." Karen puts him on the couch. "Do you think he'll... you know, remember any of this?" Sponge Bob asked, his voice low and tentative. Karen's smile was a gentle wave. "I doubt it. The anesthesia usually wipes out memories for a bit." "Rest well, honey," she whispered, kissing his forehead. "You've had a long day." Suddenly Plankton stirs in his sleep, his snores morphing into a groan as he shifts beneath the blanket. "Is he okay?" SpongeBob asks. "He's okay," she nods, her voice a gentle lullaby in the stillness. "Just anesthesia wearing off." She stood by him. "Easy, Plankton," Karen cooed, gently rubbing Plankton's back. "You're okay." The little villain's body twitched, and his eye fluttered open. For a brief moment, confusion clouded his gaze before he spotted Sponge Bob and Karen. "W-wha... whass happening?" Plankton's words were slurred, his lisp more pronounced than ever. "You're home, Plankton. You had wisdom teeth removed." "W-what? Did I miss... somefink?" He tried to sit up, his body moving as if through syrup. "You've been out for a bit," Karen said. "But you're home now." Plankton blinked. "Home?" he mumbled. "Yes, sweetie," Karen said, her voice a gentle caress. "You had your wisdom teeth out. You're going to be fine." "Oww... wha’ happened to my mouf?" "Your wisdom teeth were out." "Oh... wight," he murmured. "Need anything?" "Could... could I have some... ice... cweam?" His voice was a whispered plea. They get him some. "Thath's... thoothing. So, how'd I get home?" "Karen and I brought you back," Sponge Bob said. "You were out cold. Didn't even wake up when we carried you in." "Did... did you two... take care of me?" His voice was a mix of surprise and vulnerability. "Of course, Plankton!" He turned to Plankton. "Want me to pick something to watch?" "Mm-hmm," Plankton mumbled, eye already closing again. Sponge Bob flicked through the tv channels, finally settling on a rerun of their favorite show, "Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy." The familiar theme song filled the room, and Karen took a seat next to Plankton on the couch, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. As the adventure unfolded on the screen, Plankton's breathing grew deeper and more regular, his body gradually relaxing into the cushions. "Looks like he's out again," Karen said softly. Sponge Bob nodded, watching Plankton's chest rise and fall rhythmically. "Guess the surgery really took it out of him." The room grew quiet, save for the distant laugh track of their favorite show and the occasional snore from Plankton. Karen's hand remained on his shoulder, her thumb tracing small circles. At night, turning the tv off, Spongebob picked Plankton up, cradling him. His friend's head lolled back, his mouth slightly open in a peaceful snore. Sponge Bob carefully made his way to his bed, setting him down. He pulled the blanket up to Plankton and gave him a soft pat. They both settled into the makeshift beds they had set up next to Plankton's. The next morning, both woke up before Plankton. Karen chuckled. "We should take a picture." Spongebob snapped a picture of Plankton, still asleep with his mouth slightly open, a trail of drool escaping onto the pillow. "Morning, Captain Snores-a-lot," Sponge Bob whispered with a smirk, rousing Plankton. Plankton's eye opened, only to wince. "Oww... wath... what's happening?" "It's morning, Plankton," Karen said, her tone still gentle. "Look your post-surgery glamour shot," Spongebob teased, holding the phone out of reach. "You were out cold last night." Plankton's eye widened as he took in the image. "You... you took a picture of me?!" He was half horrified, half amused. "Couldn't resist," Karen said, grinning. Plankton rolled his eye and wiped his mouth, then winced. "How wong hav- I been out?" "Overnight," Sponge Bob said, unable to hold back a chuckle. "You had quite the ride home yesterday." Plankton groaned, his hand reaching up to gingerly touch his swollen cheek. "Whath happened?" "You had your wisdom teeth out," Karen reminded him, her voice filled with a touch of amusement. "It's normal to be a bit out of it after surgery." "Wisdom teeth?" Plankton echoed, his voice still groggy. "Oh, wight. The dentist." Karen chuckled. "Yeah, you don't remember much, do you?" Sponge Bob leaned in closer, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "You talked like a pirate all the way home, matey." Plankton's eye widened in horror. "I did what?" Sponge Bob nodded. "Yeah, you kept calling me 'Spongey' and said we were 'inseparabubble'." Plankton blushed. "Oh, come on," he mumbled, trying to hide his face in the pillow. Sponge Bob and Karen shared a knowing look, their laughter subsiding into a comfortable silence. They could both tell that despite his tough exterior, Plankton was a bit embarrassed. Plankton sighed, his small body sinking deeper into the pillows. "Okay, okay," he conceded. "But if I don't get to do anything, can I at leash wash TV?" "Of course," Karen said, handing him the remote. "But take it easy today, okay?" With a groan, Plankton managed to sit up, his hand still tentatively exploring his tender cheeks. He squinted at the TV, searching for something to watch. His eye lit up when he found a science fiction marathon. "Jackpot," he murmured.

A LIFE OF DIVERSITY ii (Autistic author) The drive back to the Chum Bucket was quiet, the only sound the hum of the car engine and the occasional splash of a jellyfish passing by. Karen gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white with tension. She glanced over at Plankton in the passenger seat, his eye glazed over and staring out the window. "You ok?" she asked tentatively. Plankton nodded, his gaze still fixed outside the car window. "Everything looks the same, but feeling... different." "You're going to be ok," she said. "We'll get through this." By the time Karen pulls up in the driveway, Plankton had fallen asleep, his head lolling against the car window. She gently lifts him out of the car and carries him into their bedroom, laying him down with care. As she watches him sleep, she whispers, "We'll get through this." The next day dawns with the promise of a new challenge. Karen wakes up to the sight of Plankton, obsessing with the pattern of the floor tiles. "You ok?" Karen asked, voice soft. Plankton looked up, his gaze slightly unfocused. "The floor," he said, his voice still quiet. "What, the floor?" Karen asked. "The floor," Plankton repeated. "What about it?" Karen asked. Plankton's gaze remained fixed on the tiles. "Plankton not same, Plankton different," he murmured. Karen sat down beside him. "How are you feeling?" "Plankton feel... weird," he said, antennae drooping slightly. "Things to loud. Things to bright." He paused, looking at her with a flicker of his old mischief. "But Plankton still love Krabby Patty." Karen couldn't help but chuckle through tears. "I know you do, sweetie," she said, her voice warm with love. "But maybe it's time we focus on something else for a while." Plankton nodded slowly, gaze still on the floor. "Plankton... try," he murmured, fidgeting nervously. "Do you want for breakfast, Plankton?" Plankton's eye didn't leave the floor. Karen tries asking again. "Does Plankton wanna eat?" Plankton nods, his gaze finally shifting from the floor to meet hers. "Hungry," he said, his voice monotone and detached. Karen sighs and heads to the kitchen. She could feel the weight of the new reality settling on her shoulders, but she was determined to make things work. As she flipped through the recipe book, Plankton's voice, distant yet clear, floated through the air. "Plankton... Plankton different," he said to himself, gaze still locked onto the floor. Karen knew he was trying to process his new sense of self. "Plankton still smart," he murmured, as if reassuring himself. "But Plankton... not same." He paused, tiny body trembling slightly. "Plankton think to loud. Plankton hear to much." The world had become a symphony of overwhelming stimuli, each sound and light a crescendo that pounded against his newfound sensitivity. Karen looked up from her cooking with empathy. "It's ok Plankton," she said gently. "We'll learn to adapt. Maybe we can make some changes around here to help you feel more comfortable." Plankton nodded, but doubt remained. "Plankton... not know," he said, his voice filled with uncertainty. "What if Plankton mess up?" Karen set the frying pan aside and knelt down beside him, taking his hands in hers. "You won't," she said firmly. "We'll face this together. I'll always be here to help you, no matter what." Plankton nodded, his gaze finally shifting from the floor to meet hers. "Thank Karen," he said, voice a little clearer. "The chumbalaya is ready." She says, serving him his favorite chum dish. Plankton looks up from the floor, his gaze lingering on the plate before him. "Plankton eat now?" he asks, his voice still distant. "Yes, sweetie," Karen says with a smile, pushing the plate closer to him. "Eat your breakfast." "Eat breakfast," Plankton parrots back, his tone flat. He picks up a spoon and stares at it, his hand shaking slightly. The simple task of bringing it to his mouth seems daunting under the weight of his new reality. Karen's smile falters a little but she keeps the conversation going. "It's a beautiful day out side, Plankton. Would you like to go for a walk?" "Walk outside," Plankton repeats echoing the monotone rhythm of hers. He stands up, his movements stiff and deliberate as if he's not quite sure of his body's new limitations. "Oh I meant after finishing breakfast," Karen says. "Walk after breakfast," Plankton echoes. Karen nods encouragingly. "Yes, after you eat." She watches as he carefully brings the spoon to his mouth, his movements tentative and slow. Each bite is a victory, a declaration of normalcy in a world that had suddenly become any thing but. "Good boy," she says, voice filled with pride. Plankton looks up, his eye searching hers. "Good boy," he repeats, his voice a mirror of hers, but the words don't quite fit. Karen noticed how he just repeated the phrase she's said. It's called echolalia, a trait often seen in those with autism, and it's something they're going to have to navigate together. She decides to keep her words positive and encouraging, hoping it'll help him feel more at ease. "Yes, let's go for a walk," she confirms. They step outside into the vibrant world of Bikini Bottom, and they start their slow stroll down the boardwalk. The sun was shining, casting a warm glow over the coral reefs and the colorful fish swimming by. The smell of the ocean was a soothing balm to Karen's frayed nerves, and she hoped it would have the same effect on Plankton. He walked beside her, his steps halting and unsure, his antennae twitching at every new sound. As they approached the boardwalk, they saw a familiar figure in the distance. "Look, Plankton," Karen said, her voice a mix of excitement and trepidation, "it's SpongeBob." Plankton's antennae shot up, and his eye widened. "Sponge... Bob," he murmured, recognizing him. Karen took a deep breath and tightened her grip on Plankton's hand. She knew SpongeBob had a heart of gold, but she also knew he could be potentially overwhelming. As they approached, Sponge Bob spotted them and waved enthusiastically. "Hi, Karen! Hi, Plankton!" His voice was a welcome sound in the quiet morning and Karen braced herself for whatever would come next. "Hi, Sponge Bob," she says. Sponge Bob's face lit up. "Oh boy, Plankton! What's shakin'?" Plankton stiffened, antennae quivering as he tried to process the sudden influx of sensory input. "Sponge Bob," he said slowly, his voice measured and careful. "Plankton... walk." Sponge Bob looked from Karen to Plankton, his expression growing concerned. "Is everything ok, Plankton?" he asked, eyes full of genuine care. "You seem a bit... off your game to day." Plankton stared at him, composing response. "Walk," Plankton repeated. "Plankton walk." Sponge Bob looked confused but nodded, his eyes filled with concern. "Ok Plankton," he said gently. "Would you like to walk with me?" Plankton's antennae twitched and he nodded. "Walk with Sponge Bob," he agreed, his voice still monotone. Sponge Bob took Plankton's other hand, and together, the three of them began their leisurely stroll along the boardwalk.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣷⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣾⣿⣿⠿⣿⣯⡙⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣛⠷⣦⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⣿⣿⡿⠛⠁⠀⠈⠻⣿⣮⣻⢦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⡿⢿⣶⣬⣝⣓⠶⢤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣾⣿⣾⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣦⣝⢷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣴⣶⣾⣟⣫⣥⡝⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⢿⣾⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠻⢿⣷⣾⣝⡻⣶⣤⣾⣿⣿⡿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⣿⣮⠻⣦⡀⣀⣤⣴⢶⣟⣿⣽⣷⣿⡿⠿⠟⠉⢻⣿⣎⢧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣶⣦⣾⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⠿⣷⣾⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣀⣤⣴⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣾⣛⣿⣽⣾⡿⠿⠟⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣎⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢀⣀⣠⡴⡛⠉⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣌⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⡟⠱⠿⠛⠀⢠⣾⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣾⣿⡟⣵⠙⠁⠙⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣶⣶⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣌⢿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢸⣦⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⡿⠙⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢏⣿⣿⣿⣦⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣎⢻⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠹⣧⠀⡄⠘⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣦⣿⡶⠶⠖⠲⠖⠲⠖⠶⠖⠶⠶⠶⠶⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠹⣦⡛⠀⠘⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⡜⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣷⠀⠀⠘⢿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡟⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣷⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣧⠀⠀⠈⢻⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣀⠀⠀⢰⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢧⡀⠀⠈⢿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣇⢀⡾⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣧⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢷⡄⠀⠈⢿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⡟⣸⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⡝⣷⠀⠀⡀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣠⣤⣤⣄⡀⢀⣈⢿⡀⠀⠈⢻⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣟⣵⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣧⣿⠰⠆⠙⣦⠀ ⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣻⣾⣷⡀⠀⠈⢻⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣼⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⢷⡎⠓ ⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⣿⡿⢿⡀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣾⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⡟⣤ ⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⡟⢧⡈⢿⡄⠀⠀⢻⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⡿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⣿⣿⠞⠁ ⠀⠈⠙⠻⠿⠟⠛⠛⢿⣷⣬⡿⢾⣿⣄⠀⠀⢻⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣤⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⣿⣿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣾⣿⡿⠟⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⡻⣿⣦⣿⡿⣧⠀⠀⠹⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠘⠛⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⢩⣭⣭⣍⠭⠍⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠻⣟⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣛⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣾⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣶⡿⣿⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⢿⣿⣿⣷⣽⣇⠀⠀⠹⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⢻⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⣩⡟⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⣿⣯⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣾⢿⣽⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⣿⣿⣿⣶⡀⠀⠹⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣬⣍⣙⣳⠶⠶⣶⡤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⢤⣤⠖⢋⣾⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣾⣿⡿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⠟⣫⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢯⣻⣷⣄⠀⠻⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⢟⣷⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠳⣅⠀⠀⠙⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣿⣿⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣻⡿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢷⠀⠀⠘⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣾⣿⡿⠛⠁⠀⠀⢀⣤⡾⣿⣵⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣧⠀⠀⠘⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣿⣽⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣯⡾⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣷⡀⠀⠘⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⡿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢷⡄⠀⠘⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣰⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣾⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⡿⣫⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢷⡀⠀⠈⢿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣿⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⣿⣿⠟⠉⠀⠀⢀⣤⣾⢟⣯⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣤⣤⣭⣥⣿⣿⣾⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⢻⣿⣯⣽⣤⣤⣴⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣮⣥⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡽⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠞⠁⠀⠘⣆⠀⠀⠀⠉⠳⢦⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⡤⠴⠖⠋⠉⢑⣀⡔⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣟⠀⢀⠄⡀⠈⠳⣦⣀⠙⠢⢤⣀⠉⠛⠒⠶⠤⠤⢤⣤⣤⠤⠤⠴⠖⠚⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⣻⠇⠀⠈⠑⠲⢤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢶⠋⠀⣇⠀⡀⡄⠉⠛⠶⢤⣬⣉⣛⡒⠶⠦⠤⠤⠤⠤⠤⠴⠶⠒⠚⠋⠉⠀⣀⣀⣤⡴⠞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡀⠀⠹⣆⡇⠘⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠙⠛⠓⠒⠒⠒⠒⠲⠒⠖⠒⠛⠛⠉⠉⠉⠀⠐⠒⠶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⡲⠀⢸⡛⠓⣾⣿⣶⣶⣌⠳⣄⡀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣸⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⡇⠠⠤⣄⠚⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢧⣀⣸⠁⣼⠋⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠛⠛⠳⠶⠾⠿⠟⠻⣷⡀⠀⢀⣠⡴⠖⠀⠀⢠⡖⡛⣦⡀⠈⠁⠀⠀⠀⠙⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢂⣥⡶⠛⠓⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠏⢻⠏⠁⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⣼⢹⡞⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣄⣀⢀⡤⠴⠶⠶⠤⣼⣿⡏⠀⠀⠀⢀⢳⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠛⠉⠛⠻⣦⡈⠑⣢⠀⠀⠀⢸⢸⣷⡄⠃⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡴⠋⠁⠀⠈⠛⠦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣆⠀⠀⠀⣿⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣱⡆⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣰⠋⠀⠀⣠⠞⠈⣧⠁⠀⣼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⢶⡦⠴⣚⡵⣒⡛⣒⣲⣎⠉⠙⠲⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡦⢄⡀⠉⡐⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠙⠃⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠻⣄⠀⠘⡅⠀⠰⠏⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡤⠖⠚⠉⣉⣩⣍⣴⡋⠋⢩⠟⠉⠙⠛⠛⢦⠀⠀⠑⠄⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⡷⣲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠢⢤⢤⠴⠾⠻⣧⠀⠈⣧⢀⡇⡞⢦⣸⣿⣸⠃⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⡤⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠋⠀⠀⢰⣋⠥⢄⠀⠸⣝⢢⡈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⡞⠢⡀⠸⠅⣻⣤⣀⣄⣀⣀⠀⢰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢀⣴⡧⠏⢸⠇⡇⠉⠉⠀⣠⠀⠀⢸⢧⡀⠙⣲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⢀⣤⣾⣳⡶⡖⠣⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠓⠷⠠⠬⣄⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⣤⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⠛⠉⠀⢀⡟⠀⢷⠠⠤⠞⠥⠤⠴⠋⠀⠉⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣶⣿⠋⢀⣸⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⠆⢀⣠⠚⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠀⣼⠀⠀⠐⠲⣎⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠟⠀⠀⠘⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡃⢷⡂⣏⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡶⠂⠀⢀⡤⠾⣥⠴⢋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠗⠿⠿⢿⡍⢩⠆⠈⠳⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢦⣠⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠓⢤⠟⡻⡒⣄⢀⣠⢿⣡⡴⠞⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣷⢯⠀⠀⠀⣸⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡽⢦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⢸⢹⣁⣨⡍⠸⡆⠀⠀⣀⠤⢤⣀⡀⠀⠘⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡴⠒⢮⡬⠿⢻⡆⠐⣶⣋⣀⣀⣠⡴⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⢖⣻⡵⠞⠉⠙⠳⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⠈⢻⢤⢧⣥⣴⡇⢀⠊⢰⣶⣦⠀⠉⢳⠀⠘⣷⠀⠀⠀⣄⢀⡼⢡⠖⡄⢻⣠⣻⠃⣼⣿⡋⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⢾⣫⠶⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢦⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣲⢞⣻⠊⣩⠟⠀⠸⠀⢸⣿⡿⠀⠀⡼⠀⢸⢯⡟⣿⠺⢷⡼⠀⣯⡀⢸⠈⡇⢰⠻⡟⢻⣽⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣾⣯⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠹⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠹⡇⣼⠋⠀⠀⠀⠑⢤⣉⣁⡠⠞⠁⠀⣸⢯⣿⣹⣖⢯⡇⠀⢃⢱⠀⠀⢿⡞⠠⣝⡲⠿⣾⠷⣆⣤⢾⣫⠞⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣤⣤⣤⠄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢬⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠄⣠⠆⠀⠀⣿⢁⣶⠉⢺⢯⡇⠀⡎⠀⠀⠀⡎⡸⠀⠙⣆⠀⣨⡷⣻⢷⡋⠁⠀⠀⣠⡤⠶⠚⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢶⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡔⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⣧⠀⠻⣖⣯⢻⡇⠀⣠⡄⠀⡞⣼⢡⠦⣀⣸⣾⠵⠾⠛⠛⠛⠒⠶⢤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠄⡀⠴⠁⠀⠀⠀⠥⠔⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⢷⡴⣏⣾⡻⡇⠢⠽⠯⡮⣴⣯⡿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡄⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⠉⠀⠀⠀⣿⡯⢾⣝⡶⣿⡇⢰⢀⡴⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⡁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⢢⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣧⣀⣀⣀⣀⣤⠜⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⢧⡼⣞⡝⢀⣟⡴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡳⢽⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⢯⣳⣏⣿⣹⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⢤⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠳⡀⠈⠻⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠯⡗⠺⣧⣋⣾⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠙⠲⣤⡀⠙⢦⡀⠈⠙⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡟⠀⠀⠀ ⠤⠤⠔⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢈⠲⠤⢤⣤⣤⠤⠤⠤⡤⢻⡀⠳⢴⣳⢟⣾⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢦⡀⠹⡄⠀⠘⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⠋⠀⠀⣴⠋⠀⠀⠀⡔⢱⡘⣷⠶⣔⣯⡞⠁⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⠲⠽⠦⠧⣄⣈⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡟⣧⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠃⠀⠀⠀⣧⠀⠀⠀⠘⣇⠀⡇⢻⡿⣭⣿⣞⣮⣿⠀⠀⢀⡞⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣟⡴⣟⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⣘⣧⡀⠀⠀⠈⢻⠁⠈⢯⣑⣿⠹⣶⣿⠀⠴⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡿⠉⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠇⠀⣠⡶⠛⠉⠉⠉⠛⢦⡀⢸⠀⠀⠈⢿⣾⡀⢷⡇⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠐⠲⢄⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡇⠀⢸⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⠀⢰⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡘⢦⡀⠀⠈⠻⡇⠈⠃⠀⠀⠀⣠⠞⠉⠀⠀⠹⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢷⠀⠀⢀⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠀⠀⣾⠀⠀⠀⠀ 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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⣌⢣⡜⢥⠚⡥⢓⡜⡤⢛⢤⢣⡒⣍⠦⡹⢤⢓⣿⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⡴⢶⢻⡛⣟⢻⡛⢟⠶⠶⢦⣬⣍⣉⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡾⢰⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠃⢚⡛⠋⢩⣥⠀⠸⠿⠃⠀⣠⡀⢸⡿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡷⢌⡣⢜⢪⡱⢣⢍⡲⢡⠏⣆⠳⣘⢤⠳⣑⠎⣎⢿⢖⣵⢾⡋⢧⡙⣬⢒⡱⡌⡖⣩⠎⣎⠝⡒⢦⢩⣙⡛⣾⣍⡁⠀⢀⠀⢀⣼⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⢿⠀⠿⠇⠀⠈⠉⠀⠀⣴⡦⠀⠛⣡⣾⡄ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⣉⠶⣉⢦⢃⡳⠸⡔⢫⠜⣢⠝⣌⠶⣉⢦⢋⡴⣻⡿⡩⢖⡩⢆⠳⡤⢋⡴⢓⢬⡑⣚⢤⡋⡝⣢⠟⡋⠙⠳⢯⣿⡅⢀⡴⠋⠈⢷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡏⣼⠀⣶⡷⠀⠸⠿⠃⠀⣀⣤⡶⣟⡻⣜⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡜⢦⢩⢆⢫⢔⠫⣜⡡⢏⠴⡩⢆⢳⡘⠦⣍⢲⡿⡱⢱⡊⡕⢎⢳⡘⠵⡨⢇⡚⢷⣧⣦⡙⡴⢻⣄⠡⡀⠀⠀⠙⠳⣯⣇⠀⠀⠈⠻⣆⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡟⠀⣿⣦⣤⣤⣤⣴⣶⢿⡟⡿⣭⢳⡭⣗⢯⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⡜⡒⣎⡱⢊⡳⢤⠓⣎⡱⢣⢍⡖⡩⢞⡰⣿⡳⣉⠧⡜⣱⢪⡑⢎⣣⠓⡭⣘⠦⡜⡹⢿⣶⣉⠿⣶⣌⡐⠄⠀⠀⠀⠻⣆⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⡿⠁⢰⣟⡶⣹⣾⡟⣯⣛⣾⣝⡳⣭⢷⡹⣎⠷⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣷⡩⢆⡕⢫⢔⡣⡹⢄⠧⡓⢎⡴⡙⢦⠱⣿⡱⢊⡖⡱⢆⣣⠚⣥⢒⡹⡰⢃⡞⡰⢓⡬⡹⣷⣚⢤⢋⡽⢳⡅⠀⠀⠀⠙⢷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠳⣦⣄⣀⣿⠃⠀⣼⣯⢟⡿⣱⣛⢶⣹⣿⢼⡹⣎⡷⣹⣭⣛⡿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣷⢪⠜⡥⡚⣔⠣⣍⠶⡙⢦⢒⠭⣒⠭⣿⣇⠫⢴⣉⠖⣆⢫⠔⣣⠱⣱⡉⣖⢩⣃⠶⣑⢻⡟⠻⠾⠶⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠳⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⢹⢠⢠⣿⢮⣻⣘⣓⡹⢮⣳⢿⣏⡷⣹⢞⡵⣎⢷⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢿⡜⡲⢱⡌⢳⠌⡖⢭⡒⣍⡚⣤⢋⣽⣇⢏⠲⡌⠞⣤⢋⡜⢦⠹⣄⠳⡌⡖⢬⡒⡍⢾⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠳⢦⣤⣀⣀⡠⢞⣞⣼⣯⢳⢧⡻⣼⡹⢧⣛⡞⣿⣯⡗⣯⢞⡽⢾⡇ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣕⡣⡜⢣⡹⡘⢦⢱⡂⢗⡤⢋⡼⣿⣌⢣⢍⡓⢦⡩⢜⡢⢏⡔⢫⠴⡙⢦⢱⠩⢎⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⢟⡿⣻⢿⣙⣎⣍⢎⡥⣥⢭⡻⣼⡹⣖⡻⣿⣧⡟⣞⣿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣷⡸⡡⢖⡹⢌⡖⡩⢖⣘⢣⠜⣻⣦⢋⢦⡙⢦⠱⢣⡜⢲⡘⢣⠎⡵⢊⡎⡝⢢⢾⣿⡶⣤⡴⠦⢤⠤⠖⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⢏⡾⣱⢧⡖⣶⢲⡖⡶⣞⢶⣫⢗⣧⢻⣜⣳⣝⣻⢻⣼⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢷⣇⢳⡘⡲⢬⠱⢎⡜⣌⢣⠝⣿⡜⣢⡙⢆⢏⡱⡌⢇⡺⢡⢫⢔⠫⢴⡉⢧⢊⢿⣍⡺⢽⡷⣦⣤⣤⣀⣤⠴⢀⣠⣴⣿⠟⠣⠟⢓⣙⣊⣙⣌⣣⣍⣱⡙⢪⡗⣯⢞⣧⣛⢶⡹⣎⣷⣿⠁⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣧⢚⡱⣊⠵⣊⠖⡬⢃⡞⡹⣿⡰⡩⢎⢎⡴⡙⡜⠴⣋⠖⣪⢙⠦⡙⣆⢫⠜⣻⣯⣓⡝⢷⣭⢳⣏⣟⣻⣿⡻⣝⣮⣛⠿⠏⠿⠸⠙⡊⢌⠡⠴⠴⣚⢧⡻⣜⢯⢶⡹⢮⢷⡹⣾⡏⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡧⡱⢜⠲⣑⠮⡱⣉⢖⡱⣹⣷⡱⣩⠒⢦⡙⡬⢓⡬⢚⠥⣚⢬⢱⢊⡖⣍⠲⡹⣿⣞⢾⡳⣏⢾⡼⣟⢧⣻⡜⣧⢖⡶⣺⡝⣯⢟⡽⣫⢟⡽⣫⣝⢮⡗⣯⢞⣧⢻⡝⣮⠷⣿⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⡕⣎⠳⡌⠶⡱⣉⢦⠱⣂⢿⣷⡥⡛⢦⠱⣱⡉⡖⣍⡚⠴⣊⠖⡣⡜⢢⡝⣡⢛⣿⣮⢳⡽⣎⠿⣜⣧⡳⡽⣎⠿⣜⢧⣻⡜⣯⢞⡵⣫⠾⣵⣚⢧⣻⡜⣯⢞⣧⢻⡵⣻⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⡔⣣⡙⠖⡥⢓⡬⢃⢧⢊⣿⣿⡗⡬⢓⠦⡱⢚⡤⢍⡳⢌⡣⢇⡍⢧⠸⡔⢣⡚⣿⣣⣟⣼⡻⠷⣾⣗⠛⠛⠛⣻⢟⡛⠛⠳⠿⠾⣷⣿⣲⣭⣛⠶⣝⣮⢻⡜⣧⣛⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣧⢱⠸⣩⠜⡥⢎⡍⢦⣫⣾⣷⡜⢲⠩⢖⣩⠣⣜⠪⣔⠫⣔⢣⢚⣌⠳⡸⢅⠞⣟⠥⡀⠀⠠⠚⠁⠀⠳⣄⠎⠀⠀⠱⡄⢀⠖⠙⢢⡈⠉⠛⠿⣿⣞⡼⣣⠿⣜⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣌⣧⣱⣚⣼⣦⣿⢿⣻⣳⢿⣎⠧⣙⠎⣔⠳⣌⠳⣌⠳⡌⡖⡩⢆⡝⡱⢪⣹⡿⣇⠱⡀⠀⢈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠁⠀⠀⠀⠳⠒⠒⠲⣌⠉⠙⢳⣯⡿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣟⣿⣿⡿⣭⢷⣳⢿⡀⣿⢂⣓⡚⣌⠳⣌⠳⣌⠳⣘⡜⣡⠳⣌⣳⣽⠿⣽⢾⠀⡇⠀⠀⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠣⠚⠁⡆⠈⢳⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣟⢯⣳⣿⣯⢷⣫⠿⣽⣻⢱⢢⢓⠬⡓⣌⠳⣌⢣⠵⣘⣦⣷⣾⢿⣹⡟⣧⡏⢠⠁⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⡄⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣽⣷⢫⡾⣝⣯⢷⣫⢿⡓⣾⣧⣽⣴⣷⣾⣾⣿⡿⢯⣟⡼⣯⣳⡻⣽⠁⡌⠀⠀⠀⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠰⢺⣿⡟⣿⣿⣞⣯⡽⣞⣧⠿⣭⣿⢀⣿⡽⣿⣽⡾⣟⣿⣻⣿⣻⡼⣛⡶⣯⡽⣻⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣷⣛⡷⣻⢮⡷⣟⣯⢟⡿⣳⠇⡸⣿⣻⣿⣧⣿⣟⣯⣟⡷⣳⡽⣏⣷⢳⣻⡇⡈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣷⣫⡽⣏⣯⡽⣏⣾⢫⡿⠃⡴⠃⣿⣳⡿⣟⢿⣻⣽⣻⣟⡷⣽⣾⣻⢏⡿⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡆⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣷⣏⣷⢻⣼⢳⣯⡾⠋⣠⠞⠁⠀⣿⣯⡽⣞⣻⢶⡳⣏⡿⣞⣯⡗⣯⡿⠁⢸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠾⠿⠾⢿⡭⠖⢊⠁⠀⡀⠄⣿⡷⣽⠫⢷⣏⡿⣭⠷⢻⡶⣻⡿⠁⢠⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠀⠀⠈⠄⢨⠀⠀⠘⣿⣇⠀⠀⣽⢾⡁⠀⢀⣿⠏⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡸⡇⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠏⠩⡐⠁⠀⠀⠁⠂⠁⠈⠻⣷⣞⣟⣾⣽⠶⠋⣁⡠⠚⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠐⠁⠃⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠂⠤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⢉⡉⠝⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡇⠢⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠐⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠁⠉⠈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠒⠀⠀⠤⠤⠤⠄⠀⠐⠒⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀