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The rat never had a chance. Gary grabbed it by the tail, flicked it up and whacked it on the bench. Off to ratty kingdom come. Waste not, want maybe, but even Gary didn't want to eat the creature. However, its pelt would make some pretty useful gloves, well, one glove actually.

Gary One Glove they called him but he didn’t care. To stop himself getting frostbite he would switch the glove from hand to hand. Every time he switched, his nose twitched. Curious, he wanted to get to the bottom of it. The bottom? Ah, thereby hangs a tale...

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