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Cleave it to Beaver
When the alarm clock went off, June Cleaver stretched beneath to covers and rolled onto her side, nuzzling up to husband Ward. He reached across and slapped at the alarm clock one time, silencing it. “Morning, June,” he mumbled. “Mmmmmm,” June said, entwining her arms around her husband. In a low, sleep husky voice she purred, “Ward, I think you were a little rough on the beaver last night.” Ward looked stern as he always did when delivering a moral or lesson. “Sorry, June. But when a man...