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The fog usually surrounding the lone window in the Staircase Room has cleared. Three stories below, on a busy side street, you see Scott, hand in hand with a tall, lanky Scottish fellow with bright red hair. And jeans. Jeans everything. Shirt, shorts, shoes, even underwear. How you knew that was a mystery. Scott and the Scottish man stared into each other's eyes. A hot dog seller smiled. It was very nice and Disney-esque.
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2/4/2020 11:33:57 PM
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