[The feed suddenly comes on to a man dressed in absolutely garish cowboy gear, from his five-gallon hat to his leather boots with spurs. The only thing that seems strange about his attire is that underneath the poncho he's wearing is unmistakably a police uniform. He seems frustrated with his NV, because he's mumbling to himself as he tries to mess
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Well now... here is a blend I never thought I'd sample again.
Detective Jake Marshall!
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... 'lo? Somebody there?
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It's a camera, Marshall. Hold it down about a foot.
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... Diego, 'zat you I'm a'hearin'?
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'course I'd remember! Git that outta yer head right now, y'hear?
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[Yeah, he should have known Jake wouldn't forget.]
I tried to look you up when I got out, but everybody was pretty mum om the subject.
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When'd ya get outta there?
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[A pause. Then a sip of coffee.]
It was... five years.
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You'll find people come from all sorts of times and places around here. [Siiiiiip.] Takes some getting used to.
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I'm s'posed to be in the slammer now.
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[He pauses uncomfortably.]
I'm sorry about Neil.
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[And his face grows grim.] ... I'm sorry too. But I'm more sorry I didn't stay behind with Neil.
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