Ricardo was walking down the New York sidewalks on one fine, sunny Friday afternoon. He was done working down at Pedro’s Pet Supplies and was now going home to relax and play with his pet llama. He really liked that llama, even if it did spit on him all of the time. The llama’s name was Llarry. Ricardo had bought Llarry the llama from a strange old Peruvian man while he was he was visiting relatives in Peru. The only thing that the old man had asked for in return for the llama was a can of Spam and a six-pack of Jolt cola. Ricardo walked up the steps to his apartment, found the key under the “Beware of Llama” doormat, and unlocked the door. As he opened the door, Llarry suddenly rushed madly up and knocked him flat on his back and then spat on him. Ricardo just smiled. He loved that llama!

Ricardo decided that since Llarry was feeling rambunctious that it would be wise to take him for a walk. He hooked the ten-foot long leash onto Llarry’s bright red llama-collar. Ricardo and Llarry walked out of the apartment, down the steps, and onto the sidewalk. Ricardo waved to his neighbors, who had long since gotten used to the strange sight of a man walking a six-foot tall llama down the street, as he and Llarry walked by them. His neighbors waved back and quickly hurried out of the way, since his neighbors had also long since learned that llamas like to spit.  Ricardo and Llarry came to a busy street corner and waited with the crowd for the “Don’t Walk” sign to light up so that they could cross. The light changed and all of the other people made a mad dash across the street amidst the honks and squeals from cabs. Unfortunately, half way across the street, Llarry stopped dead in his tracks to nibble on half of a discarded bagel. Ricardo heard the rather nasty squeal of tires on pavement and quite suddenly and painfully found himself lying underneath a cab.

Ricardo didn’t notice the sound of the guilty cabby cursing loudly in Pakistani. He was much too busy wondering how the tires had gotten onto his chest. He also didn’t notice the cabby frantically rushing out of his cab to see if he was dead. Neither one of them noticed a bunch of punks sneak up during the confusion, steal the cab’s hubcaps and silently sneak away. The next thing that Ricardo noticed was that the cab was being lifted off of his chest. “He’s all right,” someone in a uniform shouted. “Well, except for the blood.” After the person carefully examined Ricardo, he added, “He’s just stunned.”

The person, who happened to look like a paramedic, helped Ricardo get up off of the pavement. “You’re lucky,” he said. “Somehow you only wound up with some scrapes and bruises. I’d recommend that in the future not stopping in the middle of a busy intersection when the light is green.” Ricardo, still somewhat dazed, thanked the man and limped away from the scene. Ricardo looked back at the street and saw an unscathed and oblivious Llarry contentedly still gnawing on a bagel.

* * *

A few days later, a much recovered Ricardo once again unlocked the door to his apartment and put the key back under the “Beware of Llama” doormat. Upon entering the room, he was knocked over by an overly zealous Llarry. He quickly moved out of the way of the spit flying out of Llarry’s mouth. Ricardo decided to take a risk and take Llarry for a walk. Ricardo hooked on Llarry’s leash and walked out of the door. 

Somewhere near the top of the steps, for some unknown reason, Llarry suddenly spun around in a circle and bolted back towards the apartment door. Ricardo, caught completely off guard, also got caught up in the llama’s long leash.  With the leash now completely twisted around both of his ankles, Ricardo stumbled as the llama dashed forward.  Ricardo, due to Newton’s law that stated for each action there is an opposite and equal reaction, started inevitably falling in the opposite direction - head-first down the stairway. Several extremely painful flights of stairs and numerous bruises later, Ricardo finally landed. Ricardo slowly dragged his battered body off of the floor. He limped up the steps to where he saw two inattentive Llarrys happily lapping up a spilt can of Jolt cola. Ricardo closed his blackened eyes, shook his head, and then looked at the llama again. Now there was only one Llarry lapping up Jolt. 

Ricardo tugged at the llama’s leash. Llarry, having finished happing up the Jolt, obediently followed Ricardo. The pair made it down the steps without further injury and walked out onto the sidewalk.  As they walked along, Ricardo noticed a delivery-truck loaded with bagels go barreling down the street. Apparently, Llarry also noticed the truck because he started chasing after it. In the process of the truck chasing, Ricardo found himself being rather painfully dragged down the center of a busy street over countless potholes behind a llama that was running 30 miles per hour, narrowly missing oncoming traffic. This lasted about 20 seconds before the tour bus hit Ricardo.

Ricardo lay there on the pavement, reminiscing about the last time he had been in this predicament. He noticed that this time was a lot more painful. Yes, it was definitely a lot more painful being underneath a tour bus than a taxicab. Ricardo laid there in pain for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, somehow the tour bus was lifted off of him. 

The first thing that Ricardo saw after the bus was taken off of him, by a crane he noticed, was around thirty Japanese tourists crowding around him, blocking the paramedics. All thirty-some of their cameras went off simultaneously in his face. Great. Now he was blind in addition to having been beaten into a bloody pulp! The paramedics pushed the multitude of Japanese tourists out of the way and rushed to poor Ricardo.  Ricardo felt himself being examined thoroughly by some paramedics. When his sight finally came back, Ricardo noticed that the paramedic that was standing over him was the same one that had examined him after he had been run over by the cab a few days before.

“What? You again?” exclaimed the paramedic. “I thought that I told you to stay out of the middle of busy streets!” He shook his head. “You know if you’d just listen to my advice you wouldn’t keep getting hit by assorted motorized vehicles. You were lucky again. Miraculously, you wound up with a lot of bumps, scrapes, cuts, and bruises. You also appear to have sprained your left wrist. I’m amazed that you’re not street pizza! Let’s bandage up that sprain and you can go home. Please try not to get ran over again!”

Once again Ricardo thanked the paramedic, whose name must have been Paul since it was on the nametag of his uniform. Ricardo gave Paul the paramedic his address for billing and limped away to find Llarry. He found Llarry several blocks up the street, blocking an intersection. The llama was chewing on some bagels that had fallen out of the delivery-truck, oblivious to the myriad of honking cabs. Knowing that it would do no good to try and move the llama at this moment, Ricardo let Llarry finish his snack, then picked up the llama’s leash and led him away.

On his way back to their apartment, Ricardo decided to take a scenic detour through Central Park.  About half way through the park, Ricardo wrapped the llama’s leash around a lamppost and let Llarry graze.  He bought a large bagel from a sidewalk vendor, and then sat down on a bench.  He pondered why he had been having such bad luck lately.  Nearby, the llama grazed near a large flock of pigeons, which were fighting over a bagel.  Abruptly the llama noticed the bagel in the middle of the ruckus and sent the pigeons flying.

Meanwhile, a poor and oblivious Ricardo nibbled on his bagel. Suddenly the large flock of pigeons was attacking him!  The birds mobbed poor Ricardo. They landed on him, and covered him from head to toe. The pigeons dirtied the new white shirt that Paul had given him to replace his tattered previous shirt. The birds scratched his bare arms and face with their feet, ferociously pecked at his arms, head, and hands, and finally wrestled the bagel away from him. After they had eaten all of Ricardo’s bagel, the birds flew away, leaving a battered Ricardo covered with dirty pigeon feathers.

Ricardo fell off of the park bench, but managed to pull himself to his feet. Ricardo limped over to the lamppost where an inattentive Llarry was gnawing away contentedly on the remains of a bagel. Ricardo untied the llama’s long leash from the lamppost and continued to limp home.

Finally Ricardo and Llarry exited Central Park. They walked along the sidewalk back towards the direction of their apartment. A well-fed and contented Llarry walked along docilely on his leash.

Around three blocks away from their apartment, Ricardo dropped the llama’s leash as he felt someone grab him from behind and drag into a dark alleyway.  An extremely burly and tough looking punk was pointing a sawed off shotgun at him and smiled at him, showing his gold teeth. “Hello sir. In case you hadn’t deduced it yet, you’re being mugged.  Please hand me all of your money and any valuable possessions you may happen to have on your body.”

A terrified Ricardo whipped his battered wallet out of his pants pocket and handed it over to the punk. Then he took off his watch, which had been a gift from his Grandma Rosa for Christmas, and handed over his ring. The punk took fifty dollars out of Ricardo’s wallet, and then handed the extremely battered wallet back to Ricardo. “Thank you for your cooperation, sir. By the way, that is a nice looking llama that you have over there.”

Ricardo looked over in the direction that the punk was pointing and saw an unconcerned Llarry joyfully munching on a half-eaten bagel from out of a trash can.  Ricardo rolled his eyes.  When Ricardo looked back towards where the young punk had been loitering only shortly before, he noticed that he had ran off.  Ricardo wearily picked up Llarry’s leash and dragged the llama the remaining three blocks home.

* * *

Ricardo had decided later that night that it was the llama that was the cause of all of his misfortunes. He was fed up with being spit on, mugged, run over by assorted vehicles, attacked by flocks of birds, and falling down stairs.  Just about the only thing that hadn’t happened to him was being trampled!

Ricardo decided that it was time to get rid of the llama.  He called up JFK Airport and reserved a ticket on the next flight to Peru.  He was going to take the llama back to the old man and demand compensation for injuries!

The next day, Ricardo deposited Llarry at the baggage drop off at the airport.  The lady behind the counter had looked rather shocked as she led the llama away.  Ricardo walked through the rest of the airport until he found where his plane to Lima was boarding at Gate 13.  Ricardo and his carry-on luggage boarded the 8:00 plane for Peru.  Ricardo took his window seat and watched the stewardess demonstrate the safety equipment and point out where the parachutes were located.

Then the plane took off. It was a nice flight. The dinner was actually edible, but the in-flight movie, “Attack of the Giant Killer Rabid Mutant Llama,” gave him the willies.

Suddenly Ricardo heard a rather unpleasant sputtering noise and felt the plane shudder.  As Ricardo looked out of the window, he noticed an ominous stream of smoke coming out of one of the plane’s engines.  Ricardo oddly enough felt quite calm as the voice of the pilot came on over the intercom. “Hello.  This is your captain speaking.  One of the airplane’s engines has quit operating.  Please remain calm.  We are now flying on one engine only.  I repeat, please remain calm.  Thank you.”

Amidst the ensuing screaming, Ricardo heard a nasty boom.  When he looked out of the opposite window, Ricardo noticed that the other one of the plane’s two engines was on fire.  Ricardo listened to the pilot come on over the intercom again.  “Hello.  This is your captain speaking.  The other engine has exploded.  Please remain calm.  All passengers should please take all carry-on luggage and move to the rear of the plane in an orderly fashion, take a parachute from the stewardess, and jump out of the plane before it crashes into something like the ground or a mountain and bursts into flames, killing everyone.  Please remain calm.  Thank you.  Have a nice day!”

Ricardo grabbed his duffel bag and calmly moved to the rear of the plane, getting knocked over and trampled by the screaming stampede of panicked passengers in the process.  A battered Ricardo picked up the last parachute, jumped out of the door of the plane, counted to ten and pulled the cord of his parachute.

As he drifted towards the ground below, Ricardo realized that he was finally free of the llama! The accursed llama would die in flames as the plane crashed.  Ricardo rather enjoyed the mental image that he had of the llama humming in terror and trying to spit the flames out but being slowly devoured by the inferno.

Then Ricardo happened to look beside him, and saw Llarry floating gently to earth on two parachutes, that an animal-loving stewardess had wrapped around him before jumping out of the plane herself, contentedly humming to himself as he munched on the remains of his in-flight bagel.  Ricardo screamed and promptly passed out.

* * *

When Ricardo came to, he found himself hanging from the upper branches of an extremely tall tree from his parachute and nearly strangling on the straps of it.  Ricardo looked down at the ground below and through the layers of branches he thought that he could see a llama grazing on the meadow beneath him.  He thought that he saw his duffel bag down amongst the lower branches, but he wasn’t sure.

Ricardo looked at the landscape around him.  He noticed that the terrain was mountainous.  The plane must have reached the Andes before it crashed, since they had reached South America.  Since he was in the Andes, he assumed that meant that he was in either Columbia or Peru, but other than that he had no idea where he was.  He seemed to be in some remote location.  In the distance, he thought that he could see a little village in a valley several miles away.

Ricardo just sort of hung there in that tree for a few hours.  He watched as the sun slowly started to sink into the western sky, which was rather lovely.  He was starting to get a rather nasty kink in his neck from the straps of the parachute.  As Ricardo squirmed to maneuver into a better position, he heard the branch that he was hanging on make a nasty snap.  He felt himself falling through all of the layers of branches below him, his body getting scratched by all of the little twigs and branches as they broke under his weight.  Finally Ricardo landed with a loud thud on the ground, along with his duffel bag, which a squirrel had managed to open and it was now nibbling on one of the packets of complimentary peanuts that he had received on the plane.

As Ricardo lifted up his battered head, he noticed with a certain amount of dread that he had landed in the middle of a herd of grazing llamas!  Ricardo must have looked otherworldly with his torn clothes, covered by twigs, leaves and blood from his many cuts and bruises.  As Ricardo stood up, the normally calm llamas spooked at the sight of Ricardo covered by the ripped and dirty white sheet of his parachute.  The crazed llamas’ first reaction was to hum loudly in alarm, and then they started to stampede in shock.  The squirrel bolted for the tree and Ricardo was knocked flat on his face by the stampeding llamas.  The terrified llamas spat on him as they ran away from him and trampled Ricardo with their hard cloven nails in the process.  After being stepped and/or spat upon by what must have been the entire herd of llamas, Ricardo dragged himself to his feet only to be knocked over by a rambunctious Llarry.

Llarry nuzzled poor Ricardo.  Ricardo was forced to drag himself to his feet once again and leaned against the tree.  Once he had regained his breath, he sat down and looked over the contents of his duffel bag. He found a half-eaten bag of peanuts, a can of Spam and a bagel for Llarry, his latest edition of “Mad” magazine, a penlight, a comb, and sweatshirt.  Great.  This is what he was supposed to survive on while he tried to reach civilization?  Ricardo got up, grabbed Llarry’s miraculously still intact leash, and headed off in the direction of the little village that he had seen from the tree.

Ricardo limped into town just as the sun finally set.  In the fading light, Ricardo looked at the scenery in an attempt to find an inkling of an idea to as where in the Southern Hemisphere he was.  Ricardo glanced at a relatively large building, which appeared under further inspection to be an airport. The sign in front of the building read (in translation) “Remote Location in Peru National Airport.”  Ricardo’s mouth dropped open in shock.  By some weird twist of fate he had managed to land exactly where has had wanted to go!  Ricardo couldn’t believe it.  After all of his bad luck something had finally gone right for a change!  As Ricardo started to wander away in amazement, he tripped over Llarry’s long leash and fell face first into a huge mud puddle.  When Ricardo made an attempt to get up out of the puddle, he found out that his ankles were tangled up in the leash as he fell flat on his hack into the puddle again. After carefully untangling his feet from the leash, Ricardo carefully stood up and walked out of the huge puddle.

Ricardo picked up his luggage and llama’s long leash and led the llama to the nearest house.  Ricardo planned to ask the owner of the house where the old man lived.  Ricardo walked up the sidewalk to the very fashionable house, stepped over empty bottles of Jolt cola, stopped at the Spam doormat, and rang the doorbell.  To Ricardo’s surprise the old man himself answered the door.  The old man was wearing a very bright Hawaiian shirt along with a pair of shorts and flip-flops sandals.

“Can I help you?  Hey, nice parachute! H ave you been skydiving?  That’s something that I really need to try sometime!  C’mon in.  My friend Ben and I were just having supper.  Would you like to join us?” The old man glanced at Llarry.  “Your llama can join us to if he wants to.”  A somewhat stunned Ricardo dazedly followed the old man into the house, his complaint unvoiced.

The old man led Ricardo and Llarry into his kitchen, where a brown haired guy in a Spam T-shirt was drinking a can of Jolt.  “Hey, Bernie. Who’s the guy in the parachute? A skydiving buddy of yours?”

“Nope, Ben.  I actually haven’t ever been skydiving.  We should make an appointment with a place in Lima sometime soon.  And I have no idea who this guy is but he has a llama with him.  Sit down, and have some Spam and Jolt.  Tell us who you are and why you’re here,” said Bernie as he sat down and put his feet on the table.

Ricardo took off his parachute, sat down at the Formica table, and got a bagel out of his duffel bag for Llarry.  Then he started to tell his story.  “Well, around two months ago, I was here in Peru visiting relatives.  I was walking down a street on my way to the airport when you, Bernie, pulled me over into a dark alleyway and said, ‘Hey kid, would you like to buy a llama? He’s very friendly and he’s housebroken too!  He’s yours for two hundred bucks, or a six-pack of Jolt cola and a can of Spam. He’d be a great souvenir of your trip to Peru!’  So, for some unknown reason, I decided to buy the llama.  I took the llama home with me on the plane to New York.  Shortly after that the bad luck started. The day after I brought Llarry home, my apartment was robbed!  The llama spit on me hundreds of times. I fell down thirteen flights of steps at my apartment building.  I got ran over by a taxi and a tour bus full of Japanese tourists on two separate occasions.  I got attacked by a flock of pigeons in Central Park, and mugged shortly afterward.  My plane crashed on the way here, I fell out of an extremely tall tree that I landed in, I got trampled by a herd of crazed llamas and finally I fell into a big mud puddle on the way here!”

“Bummer.  But what's your point?”

“My point?  All of these bad things only happened when I was with the llama!  You sold me the llama!  I want you to take back the llama, repay me for it, and give me full compensation for my injuries!  That’s what I want!”  Ricardo was normally a pretty easy-going guy, but he was mad.  In fact, saying he was mad was an extreme understatement.  He was ready to kill everyone in the house and then blow the whole country of Peru to kingdom come.

“Hey, Bernie,” Ben interjected.  “The last time that I was here you didn’t have a llama. Where did you get it and then why did you give it to...hey, what’s your name anyway?”

“Ricardo.”

“Well, I won the llama in a crooked poker game in Lima shortly after you left for Wisconsin.  Some witch doctor from the Brazilian rainforest was in Lima looking for a good time and it’s all that he had with him to use for a bet.  When I won the game, he muttered something and made some weird gestures and said that he put a curse on the llama.  I guess he didn’t like losing.  After I got the llama, I fell off my motorcycle on the way back into Remote Location and wound up in traction in Remote Location Hospital for a month.  After I got out, I had a lot of other nasty accidents while the llama was around.  Anyway, after another nasty accident, I decided that I had to get rid of the llama.  It just wasn’t working out.  Did you know that...Llarry did you call him?  Llarry scared off my neighbor’s llama herd and no one’s seen hide or hair of them in over three months?”

“I think that I met them all personally,” said Ricardo as he rubbed his bruises from the llama stampede. After thinking for a minute, he decided that if he could get Llarry de-cursed, he’d like to keep him.  After all, he really did love that llama, aside from the bad luck.  “Is there anyway to de-curse my llama?  If you can do that, I’ll take my compensation and the llama and go home.”

“Easier done than said, man,” said Bernie.  “Ben, why don’t you go surf the Internet and try to find some information that pertains to the de-cursing of cursed llamas.”  Ben gave Bernie a thumbs-up and headed into the living room.  While Ricardo waited, he tried to calm himself by petting Llarry, but all that that accomplished was getting spit on by the llama.  Ricardo sighed, and then finished eating his Spam.

“Aha!” Ricardo heard Ben exclaim.  Ricardo got up from the table and joined Ben and Bernie around the computer.  “I think that I’ve found the solution to your problem!  Bernie just happens to have a copy of Weird and Rare Curses of the World, so I looked up your particular curse.  It’s right here under “The Brazilian Llama Curse.”  That one is rare!  Did you know that there’s only been one other reported case?  It says that what we need to de-curse the llama is...ew!  We need a vat of llama spit!  Then we need a can of Spam, and a penlight.  Then it lists the incantation to use.”

“Great, man!” said Bernie.  “We’ve got cans of Spam up the wazoo, and it shouldn’t be too hard to get Llarry here to hack up a few lugies for us.  I’ll just go find my penlight and we’ll start the curse-breaking ceremony.  Do we have to wait for a special time?”

“We just have to wait for midnight.  How come you have a copy of Weird and Rare Curses of the World, anyway?” Ben asked.

“Well, I was just a little mad at that witch doctor for cursing me and that stupid llama, so cursed him with the “Curse of the Angry Peruvian Llama-herder.”  That should’ve made him break out in hives the size of Toledo and made him start clucking like a chicken with a hernia for the rest of his life.  Peruvian law states that if you create a new curse you’ve got to submit a copy of it to the book, since it’s published in Lima.  I figured that as long as I was published in there that I might as well buy a copy of the book.  You never know when you’ll want to put a curse on someone.  Anyway, I’m gonna go look for that penlight.”

Bernie came back to the living room after around twenty minutes saying, “I can’t find my stupid penlight!”

Ricardo smiled and said, “Well, I just happen to have one in my duffel-bag. Here, I’ll go get it.”  He was glad that that penlight had come in handy for something.  He handed it to a grateful Bernie.

For the next few hours, they waited for midnight. Ben surfed the Internet looking for information on ancient Inca civilizations while Ricardo and Bernie played a quick game of poker.  Finally it was just about midnight.  The trio quickly persuaded Llarry to fill up a vat full of spit, and then got out a can of Spam from a crate full of it in the kitchen and the penlight.  Ben grabbed the instructions and they set up shop.

At midnight they started the curse-breaking ceremony.  Ben started to read off the instructions off the sheet of paper, and then he started to chant off the curse-breaking incantation.  Bernie opened up the can of Spam and set it in front of Llarry, who wolfed it down eagerly.  Then Ricardo shone the penlight into the llama’s eyes as Ben chanted, “We ask the evil spirits that curse this llama to leave!  We now anoint this llama with the sacred spit! Llama-llama-llama!”

At that cue, Ricardo and Bernie picked up the vat of llama spit and dumped it on Llarry’s head.  Llarry did not like being spat on and started humming in anger.  Ben, Bernie, and Ricardo all dropped everything and ran away from Llarry before the llama could spit on them.

* * *

The following morning, Ricardo phoned the Lima airport and made reservations for the next flight to New York.  Then, he sat down at the kitchen table and ate his breakfast of jelly-filled doughnuts. Llarry had apparently recovered from the previous night’s experience and he sat next to the table on the floor, eating his breakfast bagel and drinking his bowl of Jolt.  Ben came into the kitchen, petted Llarry, and sat down.  Then Bernie entered the room, still wearing a pair of red and white zebra-striped pajamas.  Bernie sat down at the table and ate his breakfast.  Then Ricardo said, “Bernie, I want to thank you for being such a gracious host.  I know I was kind of…er, ill-tempered when I showed up at your door the other day.”

“Well, that’s certainly understandable with everything that’s happened to you lately.”

“Thanks for being so understanding.  Anyway, it’s time for us to leave.  I need to get back to my job.  I booked a flight this morning and the llama and I will be leaving on the 3:00 plane to New York today.  Do you think I could bother you for a ride?”

“Hey, man, that’s cool!  I’m going to have to call the airport and see if I can set up an appointment for some sky-diving while we’re there!  I’m sorry that you have to leave, by the way.  It’s been nice hanging out with you.  We ought to get together again sometime, under better circumstances.”

“Hey, as long as we’re going to be at the airport, I want to see if my luggage ever showed up,” said Ben.

Later that day, the trio hooked up a trailer onto the back of Bernie’s car.  They used a bagel to persuade Llarry to get in, and then they all piled into the car and headed off for Lima.  Later on, they arrived in Lima.  Bernie parked in the airport parking lot and they led the llama out of the carrier on his leash.  No one in the airport looked twice at the llama, since it wasn’t an unusual sight to see llamas anywhere in Peru.  Ricardo dropped off Llarry at the luggage drop-off, and then walked with Ben and Bernie towards the gate where Flight 14 to New York was boarding.

Ricardo handed the stewardess his ticket.  At the boarding gate, Ricardo handed Bernie a piece of paper describing exactly where he had ran into his missing llama herd and a few ideas on how to round them up again.  Ricardo figured that the ideas should work if the herd is anything like Llarry.  One of the ideas was to make a trail of bagels towards the corral, leading the llamas to that location.  Ricardo shook Ben and Bernie’s hands, then Bernie handed Ricardo his compensation in the form of a twelve-pack of Jolt, a case of Spam, enough cash to cover his medical bills, and a package of bagels for Llarry.  Ricardo waved goodbye to Bernie and Ben and boarded the plane.

Ricardo took his seat for takeoff, and then watched the stewardess demonstrate the safety equipment. He clapped loudly when she was done, which really ticked off the stewardess.  A few minutes later, Ricardo glanced out of his window and saw a waving Ben and Bernie drifting earthward in two brightly colored parachutes.

Ricardo relaxed.  He was finally fairly sure that he didn’t have to worry about the plane crashing, or getting into any other painful accidents.  He hoped that Llarry really was de-cursed.  If he wasn’t, Ricardo was going to have to put the Curse of the Angry New Yorker on Bernie!

The End

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