The Professor; Adventures in Editing

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The evenings tea sat cold and forgotten on his desk as he snored softly, a trickle of drool pooling on the paper he slept on. An amused Ferb stood in front of the desk, looking down at the professor. Having knocked twice but found he was unable to rouse the professor, he’d entered quietly. “Professor… “ he spoke, but all he got in response was snores. “Professor!” he tried again, a little louder this time. Still nothing, rolling his eyes he looked around for something to aid the process a little. He pulled a crystal tumbler from the drinks tray by the desk and held it aloft for a moment. Still staring at the professor he let it go. With a crash of shattering glass it scattered across the floor.

The professor sat up instantly, the piece of paper stuck to his face. “I… wha?” He stammered, glasses askew. Ferb…

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