Chocolatessin, definitely. But deep-pile carpet ... uggghhhh, wrong ... carpet is a disgusting, filth-collecting invention that would never get within a million miles of MY dream home. :p
|Your home is a |
Athletic Magnate's Headquarters
| Your kitchen is someplace you never go, because you "have people for that." There's a Chocolatessin, a word you made up yourself, but that is beginning to catch on among your wealthy neighbors. Your master bedroom is the size of a small barn, with carpet thick enough to reach your ankles. Your study has hardback editions of every classic ever written, plus a special edition of Rich Dad, Poor Dad with the parts you ghost-authored highlighted. One of your garages holds your collection of ferraris, and is measured in acreage. |
Your home also includes a guest wing and private quarters for your servants. Your guests enjoy your animatronic replica of the cantina at Mos Eisley. Outside is your hedge maze and gardens, meticulously tended by a team of world-class botanists.
Below is a snippet of the blueprints:
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