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I have a big brother named Matt. He's very strange. My Mom says "strange" is not a nice way to describe Matt. She prefers "special". Matt used to run around the house shouting "Ging ging!" We used to think that Matt was pretending to be a train, because sometimes he would say "Ging ging, toot toot!" One Christmas, Matt was chasing me around the house with his infernal "ging ging"ing when my Wonder Woman flannel nightie caught on the Christmas tree and pulled it over. Tinsel and balls went a-flyin'. Our cat Patches, who we now call Smokey, got tangled up in the electrical wire. (SFX: cat yowl) Matt is 32 years old now, unmarried, and lives in Los Angeles. He still "ging ging"s a lot, but nobody out there seems to notice.
The end.