After chatting with Foxtrot X-Ray last night (and sleeping off the resultant hangover), Bob met up with Seymour Krelborn and concocted a Plan. It involved Seymour leaving Milliways for an hour or two, and returning with a list of names scribbled on the back of an envelope. Bob takes the list and brings it, with a note of his own, up to the Bar.
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Foxtrot comes up to get something liver-implodingly alcoholic. The arrival of the magazines is...unexpected to say the least.
"WHAT?! Bar, I'm cured, baby!"
They're still sitting there.
Foxtrot blanches and produces a crucifix out of thin air.
"Back! Back! I cast you out in the name of The Farm!"
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Then he finds the note...and his eyes narrow.
"Ooooohhhhh, it's so on, Bobby!"
Without further ado, he scoops the papers and magazines up and heads upstairs.
This promises to be entertaining...or traumatic.
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