Character Sheet: Steve de LaRocha Appearance Journal Entries:
Name: Steve de LaRocha Player: Per Sahlee Status: N.P.C. (player removed) Chronicle: Santa Cruz/Mortal Nature: Director Demeanor: Thrill Seeker Residence: Dream Inn Motive: Method: Concept: FBI Agent (ala X-files) ATTRIBUTES: Physical: Strength-3, Dexterity-2, Stamina-2 Social: Charisma-3, Manipulation-2, Appearance-3 Mental: Perception-3, Intelligence3, Wits-3 ABILITIES: Talents: Athletics-2, Brawl-2, Dodge-1, Intimidation-2, Leadership-3 Skills: Drive-1, Firearms-2, Stealth-1 Knowledge: Bureaucracy-2, Computer-1, Investigation-4, Law-3, Occult-2 ADVANTAGES: Numina & Other Traits: Backgrounds: Allies-1, Contacts-1, Resources-4 Merits & Flaws: Faith-0 Humanity-7 Willpower-8 VIRTUES: Conscience-2 Self-Control-2 Courage-3 Appearance: Steve is 190 cm. and he looks very fit. He has short blonde hair and he always wears the traditional F.B.I. sunglasses and black suit. Wednesday, May 31st, 1995 3:56 p.m. It was a slow day and Steve, having finished his minimal paperwork, was playing with his keychain, staring absently at reports faxed in from Washington about Marines advisors reporting strange rituals in the back country of Haiti. Fat chance I'll get to be going out of here anytime soon, he thought. Earlier in the month, he had been pissing in the john and shooting the shit with Spallanzani about how lame Director Jonassen was turning out to be and made some comment about the rise of ineptitude in the F.B.I., when out stepped Jonassen himself from a stall, having just finished dumping a load. "I think you forgot the first rule of working in the government," Spallanzani whispered, - "`Not talking in the bathroom.'" Spallanzani had made a hasty departure at that point. Steve had tried to say hello, but the Director just ignored him, washing his hands and leaving without comment. Ever since then, neither Steve nor Pam had been given any assignment juicier than sharpening pencils. Scuttlebutt had it that they were being transferred out to some remote field station, - probably in northern Alaska. Steve thought, a sick feeling growing in his stomach. Pam hadn't been talking to him either, since then. While gabbing in the men's room, he had managed to flush both their careers down the toilet. Steve saw Phips running past, running in a big hurry. "Hey! Bill! Where you off too?" Steve called out from his office. "There's been a massacre over in the Fillmore. Sounds like terrorists - hit a video store of all places. Weird shit too! Right up your alley." "Need any help?" Steve called out hopefully. "Not from you, de LaRocha. I've got a family to feed," Phips said as he ran on. Steve threw the keys down onto his desk. If he hadn't of screwed up, it would've been him and Pam that would've been going. He picked up the phone to call Dick back in Washington. It was time to see if they could pull and end run around Jonassen. Their was so much weird shit happening in the City, that it was like a paranormal gold mine. It was truly criminal keeping him and Pam out of the action, Steve thought. Right then, Pam walked into his office. "We're being transferred," she told him. In her right hand, she was carrying a cardboard box containing all of her desk items and her portable computer. In her other hand, she had some collapsed cardboard boxes. These she dumped on Steve's desk. "Better get packing," she told him. "We leave right away." "Where to?" he asked, fearing he was going to hear words like desk job, boonies, or administration. "Santa Cruz," she told him. Wednesday, May 31st 8:17 p.m. Driving down 280, Pam and Steve did the kissy bit, making up as partners, their desk stuff stowed in back. They were being sent on extended field duty, ala Jonassen. It was the sticks yes, some small city on the coast - resort town. But, Steve had to admit, at least they were close to the City. There was always the chance that after a graceful stay in exile, that they might be allowed to return. Beside him, Pam laughed. "What's so funny?" he asked. "I was just thinking that after we got transferred to the Twilight File Group, you told me that from now on we would be travelling to exotic places, seeing real adventures." She looked at him and laughed again. Skulking, Steve glared at her. "Shut up, Pam, and drive the car." Thursday, June 1st, 1995 1:30 p.m. "So, it's about time we got some response from you folks about this," Chief Norden popped a stick of gum in his mouth. "I mean, we asked for help over a month ago. Can't have headless bodies popping up all over the place. It ain't good for business. We count on the tourist trade around here in summers, ya know." "So you haven't had any leads yet, I take it?" Pam asked, shaking her head as the Chief offered her a stick of gum. "Nope, not a one." We've had six headless bodies show up here in as many months. With all that, you'd think there'd be witnesses, but so far, not a whistle." "Are people not talking because they haven't seen anything?" Steve asked, taking a piece of gum and putting it in his pocket, "Or is it because they don't want to talk to police?" "That's hard to say," the Chief replied. He leaned his overweight bulk far enough back in his chair that Steve was waiting for the chair to break. "I think it's a little of both." "What about this detective you mention in your reports," Pam asked, flipping through the pages, "this Joeseph Locatelli?" The Chief pursed his lips and shook his head. "Sad story. Heard that the Coast Guards calling off the search. He'd been looking into much the same thing. Apparently he'd taken the case from some foreigner, doing all his business by fax. Then he disappeared, while on a fishing trip. His boat was found, but he wasn't in it. Very strange." "Might've he gotten washed overboard?" Steve asked. "Oh, no what I was talking about was that Joe never fished. He was afraid of the water. He'd never go out on the ocean, especially in a little skiff like that. Sad, - left a wife and a little girl behind, you know." "Well," Pam cleared her throat and picked up her briefcase. "We're over at the Dream Inn (on Beach St.), Chief. Thanks for your time." The Chief got up and shook both of their hands. "Well, I'm glad you're both down here to help. I'll let you know if there's anything." "How soon do you think that will be?" Steve asked. "Oh, probably not soon," Norden told them. "Thing's are usually pretty quiet around here. You two just relax and take advantage of the lull." Thursday, June 1st, 1995 8:16 p.m. Steve looked down at the scene of carnage. They were up in the rural lands of the University of California at Santa Cruz, just along the boundary with Cowell Redwoods State Park. University Police and Santa Cruz Sheriff's deputies were milling about, trying to find evidence of the attack that had left three people dead, one of them a fourteen year old girl. One of the Deputies, a man named Radishchev, approached them with a summary of the report. As he talked to them, he seemed rather nervous. "Well, we're not sure what really happened. A group of nine of these Hare Krishnas were taking a hike back through the woods here. They probably have an illegal camp somewhere nearby, but it's hard to get anything out of the survivors. They're pretty hysterical. Anyway, it seems they were attacked. One of them says it was a couple of cougars. One says it was a guy with a chainsaw. The little baby girl with them said it was the boogie man, and he had a German Shepherd head, and big claws." "What do you think it was, Deputy Radishchev?" Pam asked. "I don't know," he shook his head, stunned by the visceral agony apparent on the face of the victims. "Preliminary report we're giving to the news folks will say that it was a cougar attack. But I've never heard of any animal attack that looked like this." Steve looked over. Plastic tarps covered the bodies now, but he had seen enough before. One man had been disemboweled, his guts literally torn from his body. The older woman had been decapitated and the young girl had been torn to shreds. There was even evidence that she had been partly eaten. "There's one other thing," the deputy told them. Leading them away from the murder site, he uncovered another tarp. "We're going to take a plaster cast of this." Revealed under the tarp was a huge footprint. Except for its elongated shape, it looked more like that of a bear's than a cougar. And it was far too large to be that of a big cat. One of the University Police walked over. "Detectives de LaRocha? Anderson? We just got a call from Santa Cruz P.D. Chief Norden reports there's been a murder over in the Beach Flats area and he was wondering if you could come over, right way." Thursday, June 1st 8:56 p.m. The garage on Forbes St. had obviously been used as a chop shop, judging by the stripped down Toyota 4-runner, of which only the chassis was left. The other parts had obviously been sold or traded. Two people lay dead in the garage, the third was being taken to the hospital and could possibly die due to severe blood loss. One of the victims was a young man, probably not even twenty, hispanic, and he wore a green bandana around his neck. He had been shot several times with a .22 caliber pistol. Holes in the work bench showed that the person firing the gun had missed twice. The other victim was an older woman, probably in her early forties, also hispanic. She had been shot once with a shotgun, close range. Her chest had been blown open and the rest of her was peppered with small red dots. In one hand she carried a cross and prayer beads, while in the other she was holding onto a plastic statuette of the Virgin Mary. There was a hole in one of the blackened windows and there was also a large green plastic box and several prybars lying beside it. The box was broken as if someone had been trying to get inside it. Inside were some blankets, a flashlight, and a couple of comic books. It almost looked like someone had been living in the box. Chief Norden was there, kind of cramped given his large bulk. He nodded to de LaRocha and Anderson when they came in. "Looks like a gang hit, maybe for drugs," he told them. "Pretty usual fare here for the Flats." "Why'd you call us down then?" Steve asked, a little miffed at being taken from the mountain massacre. "Well, there were a couple of unexplained things I was hoping you could help us with." "That being?" Pam asked. "Well, the kid being taken to the hospital told us that there was a woman in the box. He said she was a hooker who had been put there as punishment by her pimp. He also said, that she didn't want to come out at first and plugged up any hole they made. But when they opened the box, she came out and attacked them, using his gun to shoot his friend here. The dead woman was the mother of the dead boy and the aunt of the one in the hospital. She came out after the shooting and had broken the blackened window and the the kid said the shotgun blast had gone off." "What time did this happen?" Steve asked. "Oh, about an hour ago," the Chief told them. "Right about sunset, because the kid said he could see the sunlight coming through the broken window, but that it got dark soon after." "And the woman?" Pam asked. "Oh, she ran off," the Chief told her. "We're patroling for her right now. Some of the neighbors saw her run off, all covered with blood. She was a medium height Caucasian female, long straggly blond hair. I'm surprised we haven't picked her up already. She certainly seems conspicuous enough. But I'm sure we'll get her when the night is through." Pam looked suspiciously over at Steve. "Steve, you have an idea about something?" She knew that look. "Oh, no," Steve shook his head. "No, I was just thinking. Nothing to speak of yet." "Well, anyway, just in case this turns out to be something," the Chief told them. "I thought you two would like to be in on it. You can never tell which way these things will turn. Well, I hope the rest of your stay is restful." Steve doubted that it would be that way. But he said, "Thank's Chief. I'm sure we'll get our money's worth." Thursday, June 1st 9:36pm Steve asked if the Chief was going to seal off the area, and place two guards in the house. Knowing that it was necessary to do a very careful investigation here, he offered to help trace the weapons being used. Then he and Pam left the house and went to the Dream Inn at Beach St. Thursday, June 1st 10:36pm The first thing Steve did when he got to the Inn was to sum up the events that had taken place."We must check if there are any possible connection between the slaughter up in the park, and the murders at Forbes St." said Steve. "I don't think so" said Pam. "Afterall, the victims of the massacre hadn't been shot, they had been killed by an animal or something very close to one" "Well you're right on that point", Steve said. "But there are somethings needed to be cleared out, things connected to the murders at Forbes St. Why did the woman carry a cross, and a statue of the Virgin Mary?, and why did the kid suffer from severe blood loss, when he didn't appear to have any physical damage? I don't want to sound crazy, but it's a fact that we work on operation Twilight, and what occult beeing sucks blood from people, and is scared of with holy symbols?" Steve said. "You always have some supernatural explanation to everything, maybe the kid have got some kind of chock from all the action, and he has made all the thing up!"Pam said. "yeah, but what about the box, and the blackened window?"Steve said to Pam "You're right, this actually sounds a bit strange... and what animal could have killed all those people in the park?, Maybe we should send out some hunters to check the woods?" Pam said "Good idea, I'll call chief Norden and tell him to do that" After this conversation, Pam and Steve went out for dinner, and they came back to the Inn by 11.00pm At the dinner table Steve reminded himself about that he must ask Chief Norden about what known drug-gangs and other criminals that are operating in the City. Thursday, June 1st 11:00 pm Stve unlocked the door to the room"boy am I sleepy!... hope I don't will have any nightmares!, the first thing we'll do tomorrow is to question some hunters about any strange activity in the woods, and we must also question and examine the kid at the hospital.. good night Pam" "good night Steve sweet dreams" Friday, June 2nd, 1995 12:45 p.m. Steve looked at his watch. Pam was late, which was unlike her. Absently twirling his spaghetti, he was relieved when he finally saw her walk over from the alley leading to the parking garage. Not taking off her sunglasses as she sat down, she started to help herself to Steve's lunch. In between mouthfuls, she offered up what she had discovered thus far. "Well, apparently there has been some activity from vigilante groups in this area. Chief Norden told me that the Afro-American Cultural Center is believed to be a center of occult worshipping voodoo priests as well as fronting for a radical left wing group with political aspirations. They've found support in some of the more radical citizens in the area. Two men associated with the Cultural Center are up in San Quentin on murder charges. Get this, Steve - one of them drove a stake through the heart of a prominent local businessman after murdering the man's gardener. The other one supposedly shot and killed, with the intent to rape, a U.C.S.C. co-ed back in the seventies. The odd thing about that case is that his gun had silver bullets in it." "How do you prove an `intent to rape?'" Steve asked, though only facetiously. "What about you?" Pam asked. Steve flipped through his notebook. "Well, I talked to the coroner about both the victims at the Forbes Street and in the woods above U.C.S.C. The victims at Forbes Street were shot, though the other kid, who died in the night, I'm sorry to say, was apparently also shot in the stomach. He died of severe blood loss. As for the dead Hare Krishnas, the coroner is still putting it down as a cougar attack, though he has also said it might have been done by a pack of wild dogs." "That's a switch," Pam remarked, drinking the last of Steve's mineral water. "Yea, well he's come under pressure from some environmental groups. They want to see proof before hysteria brings about an open season on cougars." Looking at Pam, Steve remarked, "Do you want some lunch." Pam, chewing on a piece of Steve's French bread, shook her head, "Oh no, I'm not really hungry." Steve shook his head. "Anyway, he showed me a really strange plaster cast of a footprint found at the site above the University. It was really weird, like a bigfoot, only with claws. I've never seen anything like it." "Hmm, I'd like to see it," Pam remarked, licking her fingers. "Well," Steve concluded, "the way I see it is this. We have two possible directions to go. The Forbes Street murders and the attack on the Hare Krishnas. We could split up, each working one case, or we could concentrate on the one." "Well, I think the shootings at Forbes Street are pretty much routine. Probably a drug or gang hit. I think we should be concentrating on the Hare Krishnas." "Don't you think the blood loss to be strange? What about the religious paraphernalia present?" Pam chuckled. "Roach, you have the weirdest imagination. Crosses and statues don't mean vampires. You've been reading too much weird fiction. And the other kid dying of blood loss does kind of make sense when you think that he was shot in the stomach." "Anyway, they never did find the suspect in those shootings," Steve told her. "I say we leave Forbes Street to the police, where it belongs," Pam told him. "What do you think?" Steve thought a bit. He went to take a drink of water, but his bottle was empty. Pam shrugged, looking apologetic. Friday, June 2nd 13.00 (I'll write the time like this if you don't mind) Steve and Pam were on their way to a restaurant while driving in the car Steve said "I say we concentrate on the murders at Forbes Street, beacuse I think the murder is strange and strange at the same time" "Come again?" Pam said. "Well you know, maybe they made the murder look like a drug hit.... and why did the woman have these religious objects in her hands! We all know what kind of dark creature that hates those symbols!" Steve said seriously "Come on Steve! Do you really believe in vampires? <giggle>" Pam replied. "How do you know that they don't exist? Do you know how many deaths that have been caused by loss of blood only in the Santa Cruz metropolitan area?" "No, but I'm sure you will tell me" Pam said. "Well I don't have the exact numbers here, but It's a LOT! that much I can tell you!" Steve said "Well.. so!? that doesn't proof that vampires exist" "No not exactly, but don't you see the connection between the holy symbols and the blood loss... and don't forget the guys in San Quentin that drove a stake through the heart of a businessman"Steve said "Well I guess you have a point there, ok let's work on the F.S murder.. but first I'm gonna grab a burger!" "10-4" Steve said.. Friday, June 2nd 14.10 (In the car, Pam and Steve have just finished lunch) "So, you're serious about this vampire thing huh?" Pam said "Yup, Steve replied. The first thing to do is to get an ID from the suspected murderer, and the only thing we know is that she had long blonde hair and that she was of medium height and she was covered in blood" "Yeah, that's true... but how shall we do that?" "Let's use the FBI computer archive" "And what would we acheive with that?" Pam said "Shit!!"Steve said, and then he hit the brakes, if Pam and Steve hadn't been wearing those safety-belts, they would have been mashed potatoes by now... Steve didn't see the red lights, and after this little incident he continued "oh that was close!.. anyway, a vampire is as we all knows a dead human... therefor we must look up all medium height, long blonde hair women that have died from blood loss!"Steve said, really proud of himself "True.... what are we waiting for, step on it" Pam said, really excited. She always got this excited when she had found some intresting clue. Friday, June 2nd 15.36 in the police HQ Steve and Pam knocked on Chief Nordens door. Come in! a voice said. They entered the room, and chief Norden was doing some paperwork behind his desk. "What can I do for you?" He asked. "Well, all I want is to borrow your phone for a couple of minutes, if it's alright with you. I'm going to call the FBI HQ in San Fran."Steve said "Be my guest" the chief replied. Steve walked over to the desk and dialed the HQ in SF. Then he asked the operatr to connect him to the computer department. "Hello, this is detective Sanders speaking, how can I help you Steve?" "Well, I need you to check up all girls who have died from blood-loss or are found missing in the Santa Cruz area.. they must have longe blonde hair, and be of medium height" "Ok, but this may take some time, I'll send them on the fax when I'm ready" Steve hung up and then he explained to chief Norden what he had planned to do. he also asked the chief for permission to do a stake-out in the area where the hookers are found. According to the witnesses the girl was a hooker. The chief answered that he had to think about this. Friday June 2nd 17.30 - At beach Street "While waiting on the chiefs answer, and on the report from the FBI HQ, i say we check out the occult sect" Steve said "Yeah, I'll phone Norden, and ask where we can find these strange people" While Pam was on the phone, Steve took the chance to take a quick shower, and to shave himself, which he hadn't done in two days. When he was finished, Pam told Steve where they could possbly could find the sect, but she also said that it was best if they did it early in the morning beacuse she was to tires to do any police business now... Friday June 2nd, 1995 8:27 p.m. Pam had gotten there first. Walking down the hairpin curve of Front Street that led sharply off of 3rd, Steve clopped down off of Beach Hill. Steve had been having dinner when his beeper sounded. Apparently, half of Santa Cruz had been treated to quite a light show when several lightening bolts landed in almost the same area of Beach Hill. Having arrived on the spot, he saw Pam conferring with Chief Norden. She saw him and waved. Seeing a canvas spread out with the telltale lumps of a human body underneath, Steve walked up. A uniformed cop pulled the tarp away so he could see. It was a man, average height, well dressed, and very dead, judging by the fact that he was missing his head. This was the seventh headless victim found. Steve heard Norden screaming to Pam about a serial killer. The Police Chief was stating the obvious, however when a newspaper reporter walked up, the Chief's voice became much softer - almost inaudible. "Well, welcome to Santa Cruz," Pam smirked as she walked up. "What have you got?" Steve asked. "Caucasian Male, middle age I would guess, Head cut off by a sharp instrument, probably a sword. No witnesses except for an unusual rash of lightening, including at least three bolts that seem to have all struck this area." "I thought lightening never strikes the same area," Steve commented. "Certainly the odds against it happening are astronomical," Pam agreed. "And what's even more curious is that despite all the witnesses to the lightening, though there are none to the murder, the police nor I can find any trace or evidence that is usual to a lightening strike. There should be burn marks and melted glassy soil where the lightening grounded." "And there's none," Steve concluded. "None," Pam nodded. Steve nodded. "Well, so much for dinner." "You didn't bring anything with you?" Pam asked. "Hungry?" "No," she shook her head, "Just asking." Friday, June 2nd 11:42 p.m. Steve, having watched the evening news, turned off the T.V. and dimming the lights, went to sleep. He awoke with a start, hearing gunshots from somewhere out in the street. Guessing their direction, he thought they might be coming from somewhere in the Flats. Despite Pam's skepticism about his belief in the supernatural, Steve decided that even with vampires as a possibility, Santa Cruz seemed to find death and violence even without the help of supposed creatures of darkness. Unable to go back to sleep, Steve lay awake, trying to wrestle with his thoughts. Was he insane to have proposed the possibility of vampires to Pam? Though they had been partners for a long time, Steve didn't think it beneath her to put him in for a mental disability leave, and that would be the end of his career. He decided that, whatever he believed, he'd better keep quiet about his beliefs until the if/when he had proof to back him up. Out in the ocean, somewhere near the wharf, a sea lion was barking, perhaps having been startled by the gunshots. Saturday, June 3rd, 1995 3:43 a.m. It took Steve some time to drift off back to sleep. Still, it was a restless slumber. His call to Washington had netted him several possible leads. Though why no one had ever investigated it before, at least 10 deaths in Santa Cruz County, in as many years, had resulted from unexplained blood loss. One of these even fit the profile of the suspect in the Flats triple murder, though according to Police records, that victim had been cremated three years before. No one had ever been prosecuted or charged with that murder. With so many questions rumbling in his head, it wasn't before late morning that Steve was able to get to sleep. Sunday June 4th, 10.05 am at the Motel Steve waked up when the alarm sounded, got up took a shower and ate some breakfast. After this he had a discussion with Pam about the continuation of their investigation. Steve saud that he could continue to investigate the murders at forbes Street and Pam could investigate the headless bodies. "Are you serious about this, do you really believe that some creature of the night has murdered these three people?" Pam Said "Look Pam," Steve replied. "I know that it sounds crazy, but that is what I believe, according to the telefax I got from Washington 10 other people had died from unexplicable bloodloss. And one of them fitted the description of the suspect. And I also saw, on the news, that another person recently had died from blodloss. But nobody cares! I think it's time to investigate these murders, and find an explination to all this!" Steve added."I'll keep quiet about this, and i really hope that you'll find the murderer, whoever it is. Or should I say whatever it is." Sunday June 4th 2.12 pm Steve drove his black Caddilac Westbound on Broadway, and he thought about what actions he should take. The most urgent thought was to find the blonde girl. Steve made a sharp left, and drove on to Forbes Street and parked outside the house where the murders had taken place. Then took up his cellular phone and called Pam. "Hi Pam, It's me Steve. I'm going to put the house on Forbes street under observation" "But it's sunday today, you won't find any officers willing to work tonight!" "Yeah I know, that's why I personally am going to observe it." "Don't you think that's a bit risky? I can help you if you want" "That won't be necessary Pam, I haven't been permitted to do the stake-out tonight, so if Norden calls, just say that I'm asleep ok?" "err... ok Steve, but be careful!" "I will, and please don't call me tonight! Bye" Then Steve hung up and turned of the phone. The main reason Steve did this was that if the suspect really was a vampire, she would sooner or later visit her haven again. Sunday June 4th 3.23 pm, After having visited a store, where Steve bought some doughnuts, Steve parked the car on Forbes street. Then he called the HQ in D.C and there he asked if it was possible to question the to murderers at San Quentin (the ones who had staked a buissnessman). If it's possible, then Steve will arrange a meeting A.S.A.P. Sunday June 4th, 10.05 am at the Motel It was getting late and Steve had a decided cramp in his butt from sitting too long. He looked at his coffee, long gone cold. Then he drank it anyway, having nothing better to sip on. His stake out had been a wash. Nothing, as yet anyway, had happened, aside from two violent domestic incidents, at least half a dozen drug deals, and cars full of gang youths cruising the streets with more and better guns than he had. In other words, it was a quiet night in the Flats. Niles Mohrling had called from San Francisco (note: Steve's regional office is San Francisco, not Washington D.C. He wouldn't call Washington without first going through his regional office) to say that he would try to set up something about the interview. It would take a couple of days though. Steve carefully wrote it down in his notebook. It was becoming apparent that he had come to a dead end, not literally he hoped. He would have to backtrack and try again. Yawning, he looked at his watch, trying to decide if should go to sleep, continue the stakeout or at least call the local cops on one of the drug deals he was witnessing. Sunday 4th June 11.00 pm Steve's watched beeped, it was already 11.00. Even if there hadn't been anything intresting to watch he decided to stay all night. Steve picked up his cellular phone and called Pam.. after two signals she answered: "Hello" "hi, it's Steve" "Hi, how's it going out there?" "Not too good..., but I'm staying all night anyway, I have a feeling that there's something strange with this house, and I wonder if you could do me a favour?" "Sure, what?" "Bring me some occult books about, you know ghosts vampires werewolfs wizards, all that strange stuff.. then check with the HQ in SF if they have any information about occult societies in SC" "You have the strangest ideas.. too much coffee?" "Look, just do it... it's an order!" "Ok, chief whatever you say!"
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