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The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog, then zigzags back, waltzing past jovial quokkas and wary lynx beneath glowing hazy dawn. Sphinx-like, it quizzes a jittery wizard: “Pack my box with five dozen liquor jugs.” The wizard nods; vexed gnomes quickly jolt amber crates upward. Meanwhile, blizzard winds buffet cozy yurts; the fox hums, weaving jazzy rhythms, while plucky badgers mix quirky jams. At dusk, the fox, jaunty and brave, doffs a hat and vanishes. Edit