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    Brevity Truta

    Henry Phillips’ question was pertinent. Lizabelle was supposed to show for an evening of wine, original ballads, and more Henry than one pyjama safari suit could contain, but she never did. She must have come to a sticky end, there was no other explanation for standing Henry up. Suspicion fell on every rival guy who was a better Don Juan than musician, and Henry had four. El Vez said “Oi!” pointed to his Dagoth ur plaques and said “I was playing Morrowind! It was him”, jabbing a finger upwards. Him only looked smug and doubled down on that. Next, Moysikies was all satin affront, and obviously less interested in women than coke bottles. Was it Serge? Spurred in the neck by the thought of another jail term he pointed to Hamdija Custovic, who rolled his crazy eyes in different directions and laughed. He patted his taut belly and said in a language spoken by fifteen people, sixteen of them dead, “last week I was wearing a satin jumpsuit so tight I had to get it off with paint stripper”.

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