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Though, as Agent Fiasco discovered, the windows offer no such impediment to the motivated.
Sharp shards of glass rain through the interior as a skein of blackfeathered fowl foul fiendish foes pour into the building, hissing.
The Fox mewls, displeased at such a home-invasion.
Then from the backdoor - the thick, heavy, barred backdoor - wood splinters explode inwards.
Oh no.
