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Now, findin’ one? Tricky as a two-step with no rhythm. You can’t just yell, “Hey, who’s for hire?” I’d prob’ly trip over my own boots tryin’. Maybe hit a shady bar—y’know, where the jukebox skips. Or—wild thought—check them old phone booths! Heard some gals still leave cards there. Ain’t that a kick? Like findin’ treasure in a junk drawer.

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There must be order in all things so it is foolish to refrain from flogging." But the most interesting thing in the Loddekopinge case is that. this large.

We hit a red light, and I’m thinkin’, “Finally, a breather.” But no! Some dude in a flashy car revs his engine like he’s in a race. I’m like, “Dude, chill! It’s not a competition!” Sara’s giggling, and I’m just shaking my head.