You only make it four feet in your wheelchair before Bobby catches your collar with his large manly hand. They wheel you back to Bobby's cabin, where you and a bunch of other sickly guys are forced to press random typewriter keys in a little yard out back until somebody makes a book that Bobby can stand to read. Marli brings you coffee and oaten cake twice a day and looks at you ruefully. On Fridays you all play backgammon.


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