A fast-paced guitar riff is playing, and the comm unit appears to be placed in its usual spot - the hulking desk by the window. A little light is streaming in, and the room would be fairly dim if not for the tall floor lamp in the corner. The music, a less-popular piece by Foreigner, thrums around the room and is soon accompanied by a heavy roll
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"...don't laugh, sweetheart, you wish you had moves like mine."
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[ MORE LAUGHING. ]
Seriously though, good song.
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Yeah, such grippin' entertainment.
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