I was walking along a road near a river somewhere in London (don't know where -- I've never actually been to London). I sam Pete walking toward me, hunched over and with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his dark gray trenchcoat. He looked both furtive and resigned, as if he was hoping no one would recognize him, but figured that they would anyway. But there was nobody much around on the street, and the few people there didn't bother him. I didn't want to bother him, and I thought about leaving him alone and walking past. But when he got nearer, he stopped and smiled at me, and stared at me expectantly with those beautiful eyes... So I blurted out the first thing that came into my mind: "What's your favorite kind of shampoo?" [I have never actually blurted this out to any one, and I seriously hope I never do!] Pete treated it like a perfectly serious question, however, and was considering it gravely when the river began to froth and foam as if... Well, as if someone had poured a lot of shampoo into it. A giant bubble came towards us. It enveloped Pete and I watched it float away with him still inside.

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