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Narrator: There were no two ways about it. When I was fourteen, I was a pretty cool kid. Not in the ninety-ninth percentile of coolness, maybe, but definitely top third of my class. I knew the walk. I knew the talk. I had my own kinda... style. But, like a lot of cool kids my age, I did have one tragic flaw. One terrible secret that threatened the very fabric of my fragile image. I, Kevin Arnold, had a mom.
