[She's been out exploring for a while and after a while decides it'd be in her best interest to go along. So there is a women going into everyone's houses with some paper and pencil. She doesn't look happy.]
[Have an older woman, dirty fingernailed and with a hot water bottle on her back after a day in the potato field, scowling a little resentfully at finding an inspector on her porch. She leans against the doorframe, tired.]
Don't I have till Thursday to meet my quota?
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I don't know anything about a quota. I just have to have all the potatoes in the city counted by tomorrow.
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Including the ones ain't farmed yet?
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No idea. Do you have any of those too?
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Got about a bushel's worth, so far.
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Right.
[Marks those down too]
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