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Once upon a snowy peak, in a land of giggles and whispers, there were three sisters known as the Yeti-loving Youngsters. The oldest, Sophie, had an enormous love for the fluffy, mysterious creatures known as yetis. Her passion for them was as vast as the snowy mountains they were said to roam. Sophie’s youngest sister, Lucy, adored yetis too, their little hearts beating excitedly for every tale and picture of the snowy beasts, while the middle child, Emily, remained indifferent, happy to play with her dolls. One day, long ago when Sophie was ten, their father, a stern man with a trembling mustache, declared a house rule: ‘No mention of yetis allowed!’ This was because tiny Emily was just a babe and would shudder at the slightest howl of wind. To shield her from yeti-induced scares, Dad had hidden all of Sophie’s treasured yeti books and posters, leaving only the wallpaper imprinted with friendly penguins as company. But Sophie’s love for yetis couldn’t be so easily buried. Now, many winters later, the youngsters concocted a master plan. ‘A yeti festival!’ Sophie proposed, her eyes twinking with mischief. ‘In our very own living room!’ whispered Lucy, doing a pirouette for emphasis. Even Emily, now braver and more curious, couldn’t resist a giggle. The sisters got to work, crafting yeti costumes out of cotton and old rugs. The night of the rebellion was upon them, the hall decked with paper snowflakes and moonlit with fairy lights. Sounds of yeti roars (curiously like giggles) filled the air. Dad, on discovering the jolly chaos, wanted to be stern, but the sight of his daughters having the grandest of times, each donning the silliest yeti suits, melted his heart. ‘I suppose yetis aren’t so scary after all,’ he chuckled, as the Yeti-loving Youngsters embraced him in the fluffiest group hug the north had ever seen. And so, the house rule was lifted, and the laughter of the Yeti-lovers echoed through the snowy peaks of their hearts.
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