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PAUL DI FILIPPOSTINK LINESGYRO GEARLOOSE LOVED Ginger Barks. Had that deeply simple sentence possessed nofurther clause or codicil, no qualifier or amplification, all would have beenwell. Love, courtship, marriage, babies, grandparenthood, senescence,life-support, heavily monitored institutionalized death, and the survivors leftarguing about what to do with the chipped china: the old, old human progressionwould have flowed like hydrogen through the fuel cell of a new 2025 Wuhan Panda.No headaches, no heartaches, no troublesNo story.So:Gyro Gearloose loved Ginger Barks --but she did not love him.And that essential lack of reciprocal affection was why Gyro decided to reinventtheir world in her honor.The day on which Gyro Gearloose upended the unsuspecting world in the name ofunrequited love began like any other. Gyro's bed catapulted his lanky naked forminto the soft embrace of the auto-valet's capture net. Via an overhead cranesystem, that talented apparatus deposited him fully dressed at the kitchentable. The multi-appendaged, radar-eyed oil-drumon-a-unicycle that served as hischef and butler brought him breakfast: two dodo eggs with a side of mammothhash. This repast Gyro consumed rather heedlessly, while having theold-fashioned newspaper read aloud to him by another mechanical servant shapedlike a large bespectacled green bookworm. Then, after getting his teeth brushed,Gyro rode his unique firecracker-powered vehicle to his office at Happy DuckResearch.Inside his quiet
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