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Quax, the young yogurt researcher from Cologne, was sweating heavily. He stared at the big, soft bed. “Oh, what a stupid problem,” he muttered. His new, exquisite project was in danger. A thick branch of a tree outside the window cast strange shadows.
“I need a quiet night and plenty of sleep,” he sighed. Maybe I’ll quickly open the book on Egyptian myths. But suddenly he glanced at the clock. It was half past eleven. “Too late,” he whispered, and turned off the light.
