[It's a nice, quiet enough evening in the dressingroom. And Tyki is taking advantage of the blissful peace. He's wandering down hallways, looking at clocks and watches, out far past when he'd usually be resting. And everything is well enough, until he comes across a radio that's been left out. Some lovely little classical music station, playing all
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Or more, the blasted out hole in the wall and the scraps of wall and bits of metal around it.]
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...Never... Never did like Vivaldi.
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