I c-can't believe...a bunch of...losers...killed me! (Shadows ensconce the PCD. Yet, through them, there are glimpses of black gloves and a black coat.) Axel, th-this is - (The woman grits her teeth and tilts her head back. The color of her hair is striking - it, more than anything, shines through the darkness.) I blame you! You betrayed us!
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These things record what you're saying over a public network.
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None of your business, pipsqueak.
So?
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Pick a seat that's far back.
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But I prefer close ups.
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Are you immune to fire and electricity?
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Your aim's that bad, huh?
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How much have people already told you about this place?
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Not much.
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The city's called Adstringendum. Adstring for idiots who can't pronounce the whole thing. It's surrounded by a wall. Everything outside the wall is wasteland. You wanna eat, you can hunt something small in the city, something big in the wastes, or roll through the mall for stuff that's not quite as fresh.
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...fascinating. I don't suppose they have fried chicken? Or chips?
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