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The only breakfast, which wasn’t any different from lunch, dinner, or any other meal. The only difference was the name. It consisted of beans, bacon, and an egg on top. And you could order whatever kind of eggs you wanted. Over easy, over hard, scrambled. What you got though depended on the cook. An ancient Mexican lady out back who had a huge pot of beans and a skillet. Sometimes, if you were early enough and lucky, she also had tortillas for extra.Obie whirled to the new contribution to the conversation. “If I want anything from you, smartass, I’ll ask for it.”Both of the saddle tramps pushed their seats back, freeing up their sidearms. The older of the two spoke up. “Your call, Boss. But it looks like you might be hiring on sometime soon. Think you might need some trigger fingers? Me and Clem here ain’t cheap, But we’re good.”Obie stared at them for a moment, then turned and stomped out of the saloon.Sheriff Quigley spoke up, “Boys, This here’s a quiet town, with quiet people. I’m. The silly bitch had been too impatient to get at my money and had blown the whole night I had planned for us.Just to help you understand where I'm coming from I'll give you a little background on myself. I'm in my early forties, and a little overweight but I have a healthy bank balance brought about by hard work and a little bit of luck. The luck being that I got out of the dot com business before the bubble burst.Anyway, back to that spring evening. I'd pissed the money grabbing bitch off early and was making my way back to my Bimmer in a pretty foul mood. It was still early and most of the shops where still open, their bright lights depressing me as I strode through the city centre, which was still a chilly place at this time of night.My personnel misery was rudely interrupted by a grubby hand being thrust under my nose and a whiny voice bleating, "Got any spare change, mister?" Normally in these situations I just brush past, I might be a bit paranoid but I'd worked hard to get my.
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With a copy of his contract in his hand Paul went to see Amy at her apartment. Amy’s folders were on the dining room table, with several unopened envelopes full of forms. She planned to turn them back over to Burnside first thing tomorrow morning. The only reason that she had not given them back to Burnside in the afternoon was because she had promised Paul to think about it until tomorrow. Some other lucky student could go to London, not her. As soon as she saw Paul at her door, Amy could tell that he had made a difficult decision. It was all over his face. She saw a folder in his hand. Immediately she knew that whatever was in that folder was what he needed to talk to her about. They threw their arms around each other in the doorway. ‘Amy, let’s sit down.’ They sat together on Suzanne’s living room sofa. Amy increasingly worried about the papers in Paul’s hand. Obviously they were significant. ‘Amy, I’m…not going to be here next year. I’m going to be in Missouri in the fall for.

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