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Lucky Breeze
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The pizza gets there about twenty minutes later, and they clear the shiny stuff off the table. They shoot the shit for a while about Anchorturn. Oren does his best Angry Blejwas impression, which sends soda up Nessie's nose, and she tells him about what happened when she and Grease got an idea yesterday to try and hook up a nitro tank to the police cart and about scraping the bird guts off the windshield once it came back down.
"So," says Nessie, swallowing another bite. "What do you want to do after dinner?"
"Dunno. What do you want to do?" asks Oren.
"I converted the firing range into a racquetball court while you were out on account of the fact that I don't use bows. We can play a few rounds."
"And then we can move the targets back inside," says Oren.
"Aw. Fine," says Nessie. "What about after that? We need to talk about the cash you made and what we're gonna do with it. Also, to be frank, I've been waiting to screw you since about an hour after you left."
"Well, if there's one thing we out in the country need to learn from the big city," says Oren, "it's about mixing business with pleasure."
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