Written in an elegantly tooled black leather-bound book. Said book is held closed with a distressingly complicated-looking locking mechanism which is attached via thin metal and rubber tubing to a slim, but ominous, brass canister bound to the spine.
Well, that was a bit of an eye-opener.
The Doc can give quite the lecture when she wants. I did not
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Step 2: Drink. Alot.
Do not get those out of order.
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Though believe me, there's a temptation to dispense with about half of the Doc's advice, drink myself into near-incoherence, and then set off about the city talking to the people I need to talk to. Which would only lead to pointy-fingered slurrings of "An' annnnnother thin' you slick basss'ard..." followed by an overly-friendly escorting out the door.
Not going to, but it IS tempting.
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I remember no slurring and a minimum of finger-pointing. A follow-up conversation is definitely in order, however.
I'm in that big house across from the Feldanes.
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I was afraid if I pointed I'd get my finger chopped off with that sharp quill you were slinging around. And as for slurring, I figured drunkenness and fact-finding missions wouldn't go too well together.
I just know the Doc's going to give me one of her evil glares when she finds I didn't quite follow her advice. Though I did make that appointment to get my head shrunk.
I've got a few folk that need talking-to before I give you your answer. I've finally come to the realization that my life involves more people than just myself.
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