From the mists, a huge zeppelin suddenly appears, slowly descending to the ground. There's an eery, otherworldy feel to it, as if it were ethereal without actually being so. Upon landing, a door opens in the gondola, and out emerges a skeleton. He is jovial in appearance, with colorful markings on his face that indicate his nature as a calavera
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"Yo," he offers, haltingly, a little tired, but easygoing. "I think Hollister's is more of a drinking spot, this place is mostly social, far as I've seen."
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"Day Of The Dead, huh?" He swallows, imperceptibly, brow narrowing. "Pretty popular holiday, I guess. Good to know we're likeable. ... What's the best thing, ya think?"
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And promptly charges off towards the spirit of an insanely tall fifteen-year-old with scruffy hair and a military uniform. "...Sam? Sam, is that you?!" he's yelling, his heart pounding.
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Well anyway, Jose Zapata, driver of the zeppelin of the Day of the Dead, at your service.
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