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Passengers are totally disillusioned. They lost their enthusiasm, and pitifully slumped on the decks. They look sad. They don't feel the slicest energy. They are knocked out. It's too much they can bear. The only available cure is a glas of Champagne ( terribly bitter at the fist sip ), but soon they recover their smiles. They are now ready to be kept in the fridge till the next eclipse recipe.
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