The Rough Draft
I was charging five bucks for a cartoon mustache when the most handsome bastard I had ever seen walked in with a kid who looked like he had been baked in a pastry oven. That is not a figure of speech. The kid was genuinely chubby -- round-faced, round-shouldered, round-everything -- with the kind of cheeks that made you want to pinch them and the kind of hair that made you want to write a song...
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