One hundred six

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John poked the slice of cake with his fork.

His mother told him that not eating was rude, but he didn't trust the food either.

"Don't worry." George said between bites. "Ringo made this cake, didn't you lovely?"

John hated how soft and caring his voice was towards Ringo.

He nodded timidly, picking his fork up to get some more cake.

John didn't trust George but hell, he trusted Ringo. Even if he acted like this, he would still trust him.

John sighed and picked up a fork.

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