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So Fred is in a small room away from the fashionable part of the castle. He is seated on a metal folding chair, staring down at a cheap table made of the same non-descript metal. The other eleven people in the room are staring down at the card table, too. The room smells faintly of tobacco smoke. There are little styrofoam cups with a brown liquid scattered about the table. Fred gets up, and says
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3/30/2006 5:56:23 PM
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