He had almost forced himself upon her one night after a particularly bloody raid of a thatched cottage. At one moment, it seemed as if the flying bark was about to put to shore. Occasionally he would lean back and stare at the window which gave upon the sea. He had hired not one but two engineers to record the event, subsidized entirely out of his own meager pocket. “All these days I have taken her for you. \"No, what?\" She said. \"What did you think of Poltergeist, John?\" She tried to engage him in conversation as Mark's music blared from the van's stereo system. Alcohol— would you believe it?—steadies his nerves and keens his brain: which is against the laws of gravitation, you might say.
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