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In the quiet corner of Moonbeam Junction, where the streetlights hummed lullabies and the traffic lights blinked sleepily at night, lived a small delivery truck named Rollo. His paint gleamed deep blue like the evening sky, and his chrome bumpers sparkled with pride. While other vehicles parked neatly in their driveways each night, Rollo stayed awake, organizing his cargo bay and polishing his side mirrors. "Tomorrow," he whispered to himself, "I'll deliver more packages than anyone has ever delivered in a single day!" His engine purred with anticipation as he planned his routes, determined to be the fastest, most efficient delivery truck in town.
Every morning, Rollo zoomed through the streets, his tires squealing around corners and his horn beeping impatiently. "Out of my way!" he'd call to the school buses. "I have important deliveries!" The other vehicles would sigh and pull aside as Rollo rushed past, leaving trails of exhaust and scattered leaves in his wake. Old Mr. Dumptruck would shake his head slowly. "That young truck needs to learn," he'd rumble to anyone who'd listen. But Rollo was too busy counting his delivery times to notice. He kept a chart on his dashboard, marking each record he broke with a shiny star sticker.
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