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The souk was so crowded that you could easily mistake it for a carpet of beards.

Nasrudin addressed a tall young man next to him:

“May I salute you, young master! Aren’t you by any chance the imam’s nephew?”
“Not at all.”
“The son of the cadi, maybe?”
“Certainly not!”
“One of Timur’s protégés?”
“Nothing of this, my good man.”

In this case, son of an adultery bitch, step down from my toe before I hit you right on your stupid nape!”

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