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Summary
“Was thinkin’… Turkeys make funny sounds,” Arthur rubs his face, trying to keep himself from giggling again like a fool. Charles, from his spot on the ground an arm’s length from Arthur, stares at him. Arthur stares back, a panicking alarm bell prancing its way into his mind. That was probably a stupid thing to say.
Then, Charles bursts into his own fit of giggles as he takes in a shaky breath and exhales it as a surprisingly accurate imitation of a turkey gobble.
