Sawyer walks down the stairs with a small duffel bag and a couple of letters. Looks like he might be going somewhere.
He walks over to the bar, slides on his glasses to read over the letters on last time, and sets them on the bar. "You know what to do," he mutters, and the bar indeed the bar does. The letters disappear awaiting delivery.
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To Claire )
Morning sawyer.
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What, you don't like the wrapping?
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Really? I didn't hear any complaints of the first.....
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April Fools!
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Uh-huh!
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