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Weetzie could see him–it was a man, a little man in a turban, with a jewel in his nose, harem pants, and curly-toed slippers. “Lanky Lizards!” Weetzie exclaimed.”Greetings,” said the man in an odd voice, a rich, dark purr.”Oh, shit!” Weetzie said.”I beg your pardon? Is that your wish?
