[The camera shakes a bit, as the Network device is set down on a table. Franz steps away, and thus into focus. He is wearing a woolen overcoat and a scowl. A dark raincloud is clearly visible above his head, and pouring down rain on his head. Every now and then, lightning flashes within the cloud.]I assume this is another of the inane curses
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I do not believe I have had the pleasure of speaking with you before. Are you new to this accursed City?
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And you haven't really, no. You've spoken to Harold Saxon, though. I'm sort of a part of him. His insides. Not the tasty parts, though, the more intangible ones.
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