The fountain square buzzed as Mirabel struck her pose, floral skirt twirling. Giorgio waddled forward, vest gleaming, each step a slow, devastating glide. She spun, hands on hips; he quacked in perfect rhythm, wings flicking like a couture cape. Gasps erupted when he executed a flawless 360, droplets scattering like jewels. Mirabel faltered—crowd roaring as Giorgio ended with a bow, victory shining in his beady eyes.
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1McDuck
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16/08/2025