A sign was posted at the front door:
G.O.B. Bluth Presents:
The Tenth Anniversary Edition of
Three Minute Dates at Caritas
hosted by A Matchmaker Named G.O.B.
Just before 6:00, the lights went dark and a sole zombie walked out onto the stage and sat down at a piano. The zombie then started playing
The Final Countdown, followed by the other zombies
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Best. Date. Ever.
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And so, she sat down across from Sherlock, nodded once, and sipped her drink.
"Do you need to take that?"
Yes. Because giving Sherlock the benefit of the doubt was going to end well.
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... Yeah. Someone had hometown pride.
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He also had a bridge to sell you.
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Sherlock was probably not the right person to brag to that about, no.
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With all this in mind, she grabbed a drink from the bar and took a seat at her first table with a smile.
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