Which juice would you choose?
I could see Huata's eyes starting to glaze over. Her knees buckled. Lord, don't let this happen. Not now. Not here. At our first non-Carl's Jr. stop in over 1000 miles.
Then, like a beaten boxer fighting on sheer will alone, Huata summoned her last ounce of strength. "Whirlwind," she said. "Wheatgrass Whirlwind."
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