You groan as Ms. Hillford drives along. The mechanical arms attend to your every need; not that you have many needs at the moment.
Soon, Ms. Hillford pulls up to an enormous mansion. You gasp at the sheer size of the building you are approaching. The mechanical arms are quick to replace the pacifier that fell out of your mouth.
Once Ms. Hillford parks the car, she gets out and approaches your door. She looks down into the car at you. The mechanical arms know exactly what to do. Within seconds, you are outside of the car and locked into a stroller.
"Good boy," Ms. Hillford says as she strokes your hair.
Ms. Hillford pushes the stroller into the house. You are amazed at how clean and shiny everything is. It is evident that Ms. Hillford is fabulously wealthy.
"It's time to take mommie's special little guy to his bedroom," Ms. Hillford coos. "But you need to tell me which nursery you want to go to. I wasn't sure what kind of baby I was going to be able to adopt, so I prepared a nursery for a boy and a girl. Do you want to be treated like a boy or a girl?"
Ms. Hillford reaches down and removes your pacifier, allowing you to say,
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