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Dream Butterfly
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He may as well try to open the thing up and take a look on the other side.
“There’s nothing against looking into these kind of things, right Davey? Especially when it’s your own home.”
He nods,his dusty fur dislodging some dirt in a visible cloud as he shakes himself clean.
“I’ve got some rust remover somewhere in my home, so I can take a look.”
Not bad, but with those arms and his constitution? Davey’s going to need a bit of extra help.
“Try some leverage. Get a pole, tie it to one of the spokes in the lever and then apply force. It’ll make it easier.”
Good thing he still had some of those fortification supplies left - soon, Davey comes scurrying back to the camera with a decent-sized pole and some scrap cloth which he uses to bind the lever to the handwheel.
“I got the supplies! Going to try opening the door now.”
Tying the pole to the wheel, Davey finagles it so that it’s well and firmly stuck between the spokes. He raises a little spray can of the rust remover onto the door’s frame and the core of the wheel, an audible hiss crackling through your speakers.
Finally, he grabs onto his makeshift lever, pushing with his whole body, pushing as his feet scrape against the ground.
Even through the camera, you can hear the groaning and strain, coming from both the door, and one ragged mouse.
Soon, with flakes of rust chipping off from the door, it slowly, gradually swings open, like the mouth of a monster.
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