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I once talked to a man named Nigel, the man was long, not tall per se, but long. He had long hair and long fingers, his story was long, and so were his words. This long man named Nigel liked to go on long walks, he liked to drink long coffee, on long afternoon breaks. He liked to break the ice with long jokes about the weather. And by no means did he ever wear shorts. But most of all, Nigel was lonely, for what he really wanted, what he really desired above all else, was chocolate cookies.