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| Dead Men Walking | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Nov 28 2014, 02:20 AM (71,023 Views) | |
| Strompy | Apr 3 2015, 11:05 PM Post #796 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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"Hey Jeff guess what?" Julie said in a mischievous tone. The instantly recognisable hammond organ intro to Freebird followed. Julie let out a villainous laugh as the SUV pulled away from the store, heading west. Their path would take them through a town called St Thomas. They could easily go around but it presented a good opportunity for scavenging. There was bound to be a pharmacy or two in town where they could get something a little more effective for Randall. Autumn was so different up here at this time of year to what she was used to. She felt like a tourist. The spectacular hues of red and yellow added much needed color to the overcast day. Her mom would have loved it, her brother would have too so long as he didn't have to enjoy it with them. She'd give anything to see them again. Her brother was smart, and her mom was tough, maybe they were still alive somewhere. In the freak event this cure was the real deal, she'd have her chance to find them when communications got back up. It would be chaos. There would be thousands, maybe millions of people reaching out for loved ones. Somebody would put out a call to compile a database of survivor's names and locations for people to search through for their family and friends. Like facebook only more depressing. It was a nice thought, but somehow she felt in her heart that this was it, that the much talked about end of the world had come. She didn't plan to go down with it though. If they were alive or weren't, it had no bearing on what was happening now, she couldn't get to them. Somehow in her heart she felt that this was the much talked about end of the world. She didn't plan on going down with it though, so she had to focus on surviving. ... The atmosphere in the other vehicle somehow had gotten a little tenser. Brandon felt needed to air his grievance, and he was glad he had as it meant it wouldn't be stewing inside him. Still, he knew the person being hardest on Eli right now was probably himself, and he hated to pile more of that on him. Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut after all. He wanted to apologize strangely enough, even though he was entitled to be upset. Giving Eli any kind of clemency in front of Emmett didn't seem right though. Brandon noticed a big red barn to their left as the drove down Talbot Line. Pleasant Valley Golf Course, it read. It certainly was pleasant. The afternoon sun had found a break in the almost complete cloud cover to drench everything in orange. It drew Brandon's mind back to the country club, and he wondered how Andrem Jose and the others were doing. He hoped Christy hadn't hurt herself, though after losing her son he couldn't hold it against her. Even curing this would be cold comfort to her after that. That made him wonder about Emmett, and what made him decide to help them. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Apr 4 2015, 12:35 AM Post #797 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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“Don’t take this the wrong way, Lucy Liu, but I kind of hate you right now,” Jeff said with a groan, hanging his head and staring down between his legs as Skynyrd started to sing. * * * Emmett kept his eyes and the road and his lips sealed tight. He looked like he was concentrating, or at least lost in thought. The silence was a little heavy for Eli at the moment, though, so he took the initiative and broke it. “That’s kinda like the place we’re coming from,” he said, pointing at the Pleasant Valley Golf Course as it zoomed by. “Back in New York. This whole area’s pretty similar, actually. Should have been obvious, I guess, but I had a buddy down south, swore to God Canadians lived in igloos." “Mm,” Emmett grunted back his response, proving that he was paying a little bit of attention at least. Eli didn’t think he was going to get much more small talk out of him, so he turned to Brandon. He had to remind himself that Brandon was right, and not to hold his little speech against him. “How about you, Brandon? This the furthest you ever been from home?” |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Apr 4 2015, 01:17 AM Post #798 |
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Is that so?
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"Hey, there's nothing's wrong with this music." Willow protested. "I'm just glad to be hearing something like this again!" "Of course its good. It comes from the days when music actually meant something." Randall explained from the back seat, although mostly to Jeff to sat beside him. "I know you guys are all used to that hip hop and rap stuff." Willow smirked; he really was like an old man sometimes. He was old enough to be her own father, after all. And in some ways, she wished her own father had been more like him. He was stern when he needed to be, but compassionate and trusting as well. He had his opinions, but he did not let them dictate how others should live their lives. She was jealous of Kelsey for having the chance to grow up with a father like that. Her family had been rich and had the ability to give her anything she had wanted except for warmth. The warmth she felt here made it feel like a real home to her. "You are aware that the messages in music today are no less evident than they were then?" Maxwell countered. "Your bias simply makes the music sound better than it actually is. I believe it is actually overrated." "Oh, you too?" Randall sighed. "I have an idea. We should ask a neutral source." Willow interrupted as she leaned over to Kelsey and looked her in the eyes. "Kelsey, what do you think of the music?" "Hmmm..." The little girl pursed her lips together in thought. "I dunno, I guess it's alright... kind of slow though." |
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| Strompy | Apr 4 2015, 01:33 AM Post #799 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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"Furthest I've been is Colorado. I have... had, family there. Went hunting Bighorn sheep in the Rockies with my uncle and cousins once a few years back. Absolutely beautiful. If it weren't for the cure, I'd suggest we head for those hills." Brandon answered wistfully. He wanted to go home and bury his family in the place they had called home their entire lives. The house belonged to his maternal grandparents and his mother inherited it. It was home to his family three generations, but as much as he felt compelled to honor that legacy those mountains had stayed with him ever since that trip. If everything had have stayed the same and the world had kept on as it was he would have moved out to Colorado, Wyoming or Montana just to be near them. "What about you? You've got almost the whole eastern seaboard between you and home. Been much further than that?" he inquired back. ... "Slow? Hah. Just you wait, solo's coming up." Julie said, nodding her head along to the music. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Apr 4 2015, 01:59 AM Post #800 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Hills was an interesting idea – Eli hadn’t really considered that. He was laser focused on getting somewhere cold, where there was infrastructure but a sparse population, though Colorado probably fit that bill too. Someone in the quarantine zone had mentioned the promise of Canada and it had stuck with him. He had to wonder what might have happened if he had explored other options. His life would probably look a lot different now. “I bounced around a little,” Eli responded. “Not a whole lot. Florida to New York and back, mostly. Drove to Houston once for a job, that’s about it.” He looked to Emmett. He wanted to ask him the same question, but didn’t have a lot of faith that he would answer. Nothing ventured and all that, though, right? “And you, Emmett? You been much further than Ontario?” “I…” He trailed off long enough that Eli thought it might be for good. Eventually, though, he summoned words. “I… used to go on motorcycle rides. I’ve been all over.” He left it at that. But that was something, at least. * * * Jeff closed his eyes and tried to tune out the music, as well as the throbbing in his temples. He wished he was better at sleeping in cars. “Hey Kels,” he said, his voice only a little louder than a music. “Someday, your father’s gonna tell you to be careful not to drink too much. At the time, you’re not gonna wanna listen. But seriously – listen to him.” |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Apr 4 2015, 02:29 AM Post #801 |
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Is that so?
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"I will make no such promises." Kelsey chuckled mischievously. "Gotta look out for this one." Willow seemed more amused than anything else at her answer. Randall didn't even respond. It was a small prompt, but one that got him thinking. How would he raise Kelsey in this world now? Every parent experiences the worries of parenthood. For Nolan it had been the big three: no girls, no alcohol, no drugs. It was pretty straightforward. It was going to be the same for Kelsey too, except with boys instead of girls. But now the world was so different that everything he thought he knew was out the window. She had seen things that most adults would never see. She was learning how to shoot. How to kill. How to survive in a world where it is literally kill or be killed. And despite all of it, she managed to carry on. She was a strong girl and he couldn't be more proud of her. His greatest wish now was for her to grow into a fine young woman, despite all of this crap around them. Perhaps that was why he had been so happy recently. He still had a chance to make that dream come true. With these thoughts on his mind, he made his decision. Yes, she would grow up differently than Nolan or himself had, but he would still maintain those basic tenants. No boys. No alcohol. No drugs. Although he doubted he had to worry about that first one, the other two were just as counter-productive as they always had been. It was best if she didn't get involved with that stuff. "Hey, how does your arm feel anyway?" Willow's question broke him out of his self-inflection. "I realized I hadn't actually asked you or anything." "I'll tell you the same thing I told Glenda. It hurts like all hell." He glanced down at his stub of a forearm. "But as long as I don't hit anything with it or move it too much, it's pretty bearable with these painkillers." He noted the way Kelsey looked at his missing hand awkwardly. He realized that she hadn't actually said anything about it, she had only looked at it. "Hey, don't worry, Kels." Randall assured her with a pat on the head. "Daddy's fine." She didn't look convinced, but there wasn't much he could say or do to convince her, so he let it be. "So, Jeff..." Willow changed the subject with a smirk as her bloodshot eyes shifted to Jeff. "Your hangover seems a lot worse than mine. Maybe I can share a few tricks of the trade with you for next time." "You realize you only look marginally less worse than him, right?" Glenda interrupted from the front seat. "Yeah, but my headache is less worse, too." She retorted. "He also drank more than you." Maxwell rolled his eyes. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Apr 4 2015, 03:15 AM Post #802 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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Jeff smirked at Kelsey’s precocious response. When Willow asked about Randall’s arm, the smirk evaporated. His now-sober mind once again made the connection between Randall’s new stump and the events of the police college, when Brandon saved Jeff instead of him. Jeff remembered now why he had gotten so drunk. As the conversation progressed, he tried to shove the resulting angst to the back of his mind. After the heaviness today, he thought he’d do his part to keep it light for a while yet. “That’s right,” he said in response to Maxwell, then opened his eyes to glance at Willow. “And I got my own tricks, thank you. Like, how about we all just talk a little quieter? That would be kind of like a trick.” |
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| Strompy | Apr 4 2015, 08:48 AM Post #803 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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Julie started mimicking the solo in Free Bird as it came in, complete with air guitar for illustration. She stopped doing it after a moment and grinned apologetically for indulging her guilty pleasure. The world was far less bleak with music, and Julie allowed herself to fully enjoy that. Their small convoy continued a while longer, with the SUV full of music and conversation, and the truck as cheerful as a graveyard. They passed by field after field, the hopeless dead roaming aimlessly the only signs of activity for miles. Before too long they began seeing road signs telling them they were closing on St Thomas, and with that approach an increase in rotters. Out of respect for the seriousness of the situation Julie turned the music off. It reminded her of when they made their way into Buffalo, the memory of how that turned out filling her with trepidation. They were going to do this quick and quiet. Pass through, find a pharmacy, grab some heavy painkillers and get out asap. No dawdling, browsing, no chit-chat and no complications. Like a flip of the bird to that plan a young man ran out across the road ahead of them at full pelt as they drove down Talbot Street, past a shopping centre. He darted from behind a sushi restaurant, his approach had been hidden by the restaurant and some trees. Sparing only a split second to look at the man as he passed them, like he was running from the devil, Glenda failed to see what he was running from until it was too late. A larger bald man bounced off the hood of the SUV, failing to see the car as much as they failed to see him as he bounded out after the first man. The SUV screeched to a halt as the man tumbled away. In a moment of stunned silence, the convoy sat motionless, as the man rolled around. The first man that had passed them now walked towards the injured man. He was young, in his late twenties, above average height, brown hair, brown eyes, angular features. He walked up with a sense of purpose and stood before the downed man. "Wait, kid, just... No, no NOOO!" the injured man protested as the runner drew a wicked looking metal mace and with a look of satisfaction struck the former in the head repeatedly, first across the jaw, then the face, then the skull. He let the mace drop with a clatter and turned to face Glenda. "Thank you." he managed breathlessly. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Apr 4 2015, 11:14 AM Post #804 |
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Is that so?
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For a brief moment, Glenda froze. She had been so distracted by the first man that she hadn't even had a chance to process the second one before he bounced off the hoof of the SUV. And then as quickly as it had happened, the first man came back and murdered the second one. It had been so brutal that the entire SUV had fallen into a silent state of shock. To her, it looked like the first man had been running from the second, so maybe there was justification for what had just happened. But she couldn't be sure. "Holy shit..." Willow finally muttered. They had all seen worse, but it was so sudden that it had caught everyone off guard. Questions already raced through Glenda's mind; was he friendly? Were there more of them? Could there be a community or gang of bandits here? What exactly was going on? While she could have driven off and left him there, and was very tempted to do just that, she knew that he could have information that might be useful. Glenda withdrew her Taurus, opened the door and got out just enough so she could point the revolver at him. "Explain yourself." She demanded sternly but simply. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Apr 4 2015, 12:21 PM Post #805 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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“He was a soldier or something,” Eli said from behind the wheel. “Looked like he had been through hell, an’ he kept a journal that confirmed it. Days ago, he was on his way back from Europe with a package. His plane went down for some reason. He woke up to find his crew in a fight – with some scavengers, is my guess – and he ended up the last man standing.” Emmett registered Eli’s words and understood their meaning, but his thoughts were miles away. They were in Fort Erie, replaying over and over the moment he returned to the fort; only to be greeted by tense, armed men in a parking lot with burnt up cars. He remembered their fading expressions when they recognised him, and he remembered that sinking feeling those looks gave him. “I found him hiding out in a place in Mount Kisco, in New York State. He saw me and he lost it. He took a shot at my head and missed. I tried to talk him down, but he tried to shoot again. I had no choice.” As Eli continued talking, Emmett remembered being escorted to Evan’s body. He was waiting. Laying supine on the grass until a grave could be dug in the yard. He was pale and cold, but at least the hole through his forehead kept him from coming back. At least he never had to suffer through that indignity. “You got no reason to believe it went down the way I’m telling you, but it did, and I don’t want to lie about it. I don’t think this is gonna work if I do that.” This. The word caused Emmett’s painful memories to recede into the back of his mind, and reminded him who he was sitting beside. The shooter. The one who put that hole in his brother’s head. Emmett had vowed to kill him. He couldn’t leave the fort fast enough to do just that, ignoring the protests of Paul and George and all the others who put Evan in that position to begin with. Now the man he had come to kill was only inches away from him, and telling him a crazy story about a cure that couldn’t possibly be true. Emmett wondered what was keeping himself from drawing his knife from his ankle holster and stabbing Eli in the throat, or jerking the wheel suddenly and careening the trailer into a tree, or just straight up choking him out where he sat. Killing him was probably what Evan would have wanted. He was just a kid, at the end of the day, no matter what even he thought about it. He probably would have liked to be avenged. He wouldn’t understand Emmett’s decision not to. He loved Emmett and looked up to him, but he rarely understood his decisions in life, and death probably wouldn’t have changed his perspective. Killing Eli was definitely what their mom would have wanted. She loved Evan with all her might and strength. The affection and adulation she never felt for Emmett had all gone to him. She would have flayed alive anyone that would even have thought to lay a hand on her little boy. She was gone now, though – the victim of a bite from what she thought was a crazed mental patient in the early days of the outbreak. Back then, she and Emmett never saw eye to eye. And if he wouldn’t abide her wishes in those days, he didn’t see a reason to start now. Since he left the fort in a haze of confusion and anger, a question had been nagging at the back of Emmett’s mind, growing louder with every passing hour. Am I a murderer? He had asked himself that over and over again, and he knew he could only answer it for himself. His mother or brother, wherever they were now, couldn’t decide for him. And he had decided. He had his answer. Ten minutes ago he had a gun in his hand, and Eli at his mercy – all he had to do was pull the trigger, like Eli had done to his brother, and for similar reasons. But Emmett wasn’t a murderer. And Eli wasn’t the villain that he needed to turn him into one. “Anyway, ‘sides the journal, he also had this canister – the package he was talking about. It came with a map with a circle near Chicago, and a note at the top of it in big capital letters. It said to deliver the cure to Argonne National Lab. The cure. So that’s what we’re doing.” Emmett forced a nod as his thoughts once again returned to the present. He believed what Eli was telling him was real. At least, he believed that Eli believed it. But Emmett couldn’t accept it himself. He had travelled for a full week, heading north-east and back at 100 kilometres an hour, looking for any sign of help or hope. All he found was wreckage and devastation, and when he returned, he only found more of it. This was the world now. There was no going back. And yet here he was. Inches away from his brother’s killer, listening to him talk, travelling with him to meet his friends. As much as Emmett couldn’t accept the possibility of a fix, he couldn’t entirely discount it either. That small thread of hope kept Emmett pinned to his seat. Because if the cure was real – if somehow, that package Eli recovered was what he thought he was, and Emmett could help get it where it needed to be – then Evan’s death would be just a little less senseless. If there was anything worth fighting for, it was that. It may even be worth fighting alongside someone like Eli. Emmett – still inches away from the recent object of his rage, even now – was thrown from his quiet contemplation when the SUV came to a sudden stop. He pumped the breaks on the truck and turned out of the way, coming to an unwieldy stop behind the Explorer. He looked up through the windshield just in time to see a young man reveal a mace. His eyes narrowed and his heart went cold when the man brought that mace down. He had seen so much death on the road. He had only narrowly avoided more of it today – only to witness this anyway. Eli opened passenger door almost immediately. From the corner of his vision, Emmett could see he had drawn a pistol, and was leaning out and pointing it over the door, looking just as disturbed as Emmett felt. “Answer the lady!” Eli demanded, a little less calmly than Glenda. |
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| Strompy | Apr 4 2015, 09:51 PM Post #806 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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The man stood unmoving as Glenda and Eli pointed weapons at him. There was a look in his eyes that was almost like longing. Slowly he raised his hands seemingly out of courtesy. "He had it coming. He was a monster." he explained succinctly. He looked back the way he came and his expression betrayed more than a little nervousness. "I'd be happy to answer any questions you have so long as it isn't here. He has friends and they're all pretty much as bad as him. I think I lost them but they're going to be looking for me. So either take me with you or let me go." he said curtly, his body language speaking his anxiety. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Apr 5 2015, 12:28 AM Post #807 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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The killing he had just witnessed had Emmett disturbed and on edge. Still, he maintained his trademark poker face. It wasn’t his role to speak for this new group he found himself in, and even if he wanted to, he wasn’t sure what he would say. He didn’t like the idea of turning his back on someone in need – there was enough of that in this new world. It could very well be he was telling the truth and they were all in imminent danger. As well as anyone, however, Emmett also knew that some people weren’t what they claimed to be. Some people were vicious and cowardly and had used the apocalypse as an opportunity to act according to the worst of themselves. Some of those people were back at the fort, and he would never forgive himself for leaving Evan alone with them. Nearby, Eli looked similarly conflicted. Emmett glanced at him as he leapt out of the truck, holding his pistol steady in the direction of the killer in front of them. “We’re not doing nothin’ until we’re sure you’re not packing,” Eli said. “Hands on your head. The quicker the better.” |
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| Strompy | Apr 5 2015, 12:51 AM Post #808 |
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More posts, more Busey.
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"If I were packing I would have shot him. All I've got is the mace." the man with an incredulous note in his voice. He complied regardless, placing his hands on his head. Brandon took up Eli's position at the door with his FAL, while Eli descended to check the man. "Willow. Watch our backs." Brandon called out, even hungover she was probably the best shooter they had. |
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| Make-7-Up-Yours | Apr 5 2015, 12:53 AM Post #809 |
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Is that so?
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At Brandon's request, Willow got out of the SUV and scanned the area around them with her Ruger; "Sure thing." Randall was as disturbed as anyone else at the circumstances. After the events with Kelsey and Emmett, he wasn't sure who to believe or how to act anymore. Then again, would he have known what to do even before Emmett? He didn't know the answer to that question. "Hey, Glenda, maybe we should-" He tried to speak his opinion from the back seat of the SUV. He was silenced swiftly by Glenda who didn't even take her eyes off the kid in the road. "We have this Randall, don't worry." She assured him. |
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| DoctorYerishi | Apr 5 2015, 01:09 AM Post #810 |
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Dude, wake up! We've got a world to save.
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“Uh huh,” Eli said, his eyes still narrowed. “What about knives? Needles? Anything you can stick us with when our backs are turned?” He didn’t wait for a response before holstering his Supergrade and patting the man down roughly, going up his arms and down his legs. By the time he was finished, he seemed satisfied. From behind the wheel, Emmett looked around cautiously, looking for any sign of these bad men they were just told about. Eli, meanwhile, looked back the SUV, presumably for input. “He's clean,” he said. “What do you want to do?” |
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7:30 PM Jul 10