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transcribed by Louis Badalament II (lb140900@ohio.edu) Our tough girl, BUTTERCUP, moves in from the side and slides in so that she’s positioned as one end of a ‘V’ shape with her other two sisters. The POWERPUFFS are flying by an indistinct blur of blue at what may be a million miles an hour; BUBBLES smiling pleasantly, BLOSSOM smirking confidently, BUTTERCUP scowling angrily. Their eyes are facing forward towards their point of destination, all extended opened to their widest, showing every inch of pupil, iris, and cornea. The wind whistles in their ears and whips at their hair, but they face it all unblinkingly and… T H E E N D |