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Russell can't sleep. While the other sheep are dozing off, he ponders the problem of insomnia. Is he too hot or too cold? Perhaps a better place would help. When nothing works, he tries counting things. He starts with his feet, and then moves on to the stars ("six hundred million billion and ten")–twice.
Finally, the quintessential cliché comes to him, and he counts sheep. Russell nods off just as the new day dawns and the others awaken.
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