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Updated: September 28, 2025
"Who, me?" Bish staggered into a table and caught hold of it. "Who'd wanna hurt me? I'm just good ol' Bish Ware. Good ol' Bish! nobody hurt him; he'sh everybody's friend." He let go of the table and staggered into a chair, upsetting it. Then he began to sing: "Come all ye hardy spacemen, and harken while I tell Of fluorine-tainted Nifflheim, the Planetary Hell."
"If that drink has a kid sister, I'll take it," Gerd muttered. "What happened, Gus?" Brannhard began to curse. "The whole thing's a fake; it stinks from here to Nifflheim. It would stink on Nifflheim." He picked up a cigar butt he had laid aside when Fane's call had come in and relighted it. "We found the woman who called the police.
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