WEBVTT

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Previously on the Archives. It appears
that she hasn't gone too far from the

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city. She's only a couple hours
away in Wisconsin. I am currently tracing

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the GPS on her smartphone. And
who are Hastings in September? They're my

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friends? No, Emily, They're
not. They are the real monsters.

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This is why I'm telling you that
we must eliminate them. We can vet

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Marcus first, but we need to
be prepared for the fact that he is

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likely another anomaly. Emily will not
be okay with us murdering Marcus her harp.

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Do you trust her? Oh no, Marcus, I do not,

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Hastings. What does your gut tell
you, not just your head, but

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your actual instincts? Okay, September, Let's do it your way. Let's

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rescue Emily and Marcus. Contract a
hop Please do not contact the main office

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or initiate a TCO cleaning supplies facility
tour until negotiations are complete. Well,

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Hastings in September looks site. It's
nice then of the rest of year.

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Ipet Archives has adult language and violence, and is not suitable for children.

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Listener discretion is advised. Ispet Archives
is a creative Typo Entertainment Production. If

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you enjoy this show, we invite
you to support us on Patreon at www

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dot patreon dot com. Forward Slash
Creative Typo. All levels of membership include

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ad free listening, and our Binge
tier includes access to this complete season.

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Thank you for listening. Chapter nine
The Fat Observation four from the East Fet

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Archives. The tab refers to the
moment an anomaly first gains access to the

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fat. Although anomalies are not classified
as human, a chronicler is not to

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take the life of a targeted anomaly
until the powers begin to manifest. Any

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guide that Brace's protocol should also be
reported back to the Kasadoskia. Hastings stopped

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the black sports utility vehicle in front
of a modern looking cabin. He could

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have parked the vehicle a short span
away, allowing him to approach under cover

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of darkness. He in September could
have quietly infiltrated the cabin in an attempt

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to save Emily and Marcus. This
would have been the most logical, and

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not to mention his preferred method of
handling such situations, but September had convinced

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him to attempt negotiations with the harp
first in chronicler annals the records collected by

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his people that contained the history of
the Earth to the extent of chronicle or

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knowledge, Hastings had never found a
single example of a successful negotiation between the

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Contrat organization and any of the Hidden. As far as he could tell,

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the Contra trained all of their operatives
to hate anything that they classified as in

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human. Humanity's ability to discriminate against
anything that they believed might threaten their place

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of power in the world was as
predictable as it was priggish. Humanity in

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general had no idea how much effort
was spent by the Hidden in order to

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keep their society from perpetual disaster.
The few humans that appeared to have any

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insight into the matter spent much of
their time haunting the exact same Hidden that

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protected them, deeming them aberrations that
posed a critical threat to the human race.

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Hastings glanced over to September. September
always knew exactly what humans were feeling,

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and he could always determine the right
words to say to Hastings. However,

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humans made very little sense. They
simply kept doing the same things over

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and over, year after year.
Generation by generation with little to no regard

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for the people, wildlife, or
nature around them. It was exhausting to

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watch. Maybe this is why Hastings
had worked so hard with September to devise

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a plan to help the Anomalies.
He considered the possibility that his feelings of

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resentment may have stemmed from centuries of
protecting a human race that would most certainly

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kill Hastings long before thanking him for
services rendered. It may have been the

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fact that while humans advance in knowledge
and technology, their hunger for control,

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power, and violence did not subside. It may have simply been that there

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was not enough information about anomalies in
the chronicle or annals. Whatever the reason,

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Hastings had decided to divert his efforts
away from the human race and to

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the anomalies, a race that might
actually deserve to be saved. To his

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knowledge, he was the only chronicler
in all history that had chosen this path.

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September had his own reasons for wanting
to save Emily. The Guide had

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tried to explain those reasons to Hastings
on several different occasions, but they were

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driven by moral ambitions, something Hastings
rarely gave much thought. In his opinion,

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it didn't matter what ideals drove September. He trusted his friend and would

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follow his advice. That was enough. So they sat in the driveway of

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a cabin owned by an organization full
of people that had kidnapped their friend and

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wanted to murder him. The goal
was to speak to a trained assassin in

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an attempt to save two anomalies,
which they should, by all rights,

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have killed months ago. September gave
Hastings a weak smile and then opened a

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card work This was not going to
end well, Emily, are you in

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there? Emily watched in disbelief as
Hart pulled the trigger and a bullet struck

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September in the chest. Her friend
fell back against the side of the sub

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and a second shot went off.
September fell to the ground. September,

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don't shoot, don't shoot. Who
are you shooting? You're here to fight

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the ones that want to hurt you. You killed him, No. I

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hit him in the chest once and
the shoulder once. It takes a lot

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more secular in human, he said. They didn't want to fight. They

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lie. No, No, Hastings
can't lie. You're full of shit.

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Just stay where you are and be
quiet. This is the only way I

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can protect you. Emily, Are
you okay? Can you hear me?

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Stop? He said, shut up
and stay still. With practiced efficiency,

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Harp detached the rifle from the stand
and repositioned herself away from the window.

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Emily noted that Harp had moved the
television set earlier for this exact reason.

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She had anticipated this altercation and had
moved the television to a place where she

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could take cover while having a direct
line of sight on the cabin door.

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This would certainly be a point blank
shot, showed. Hastings decide to enter

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through that doorway. Then the blue
lines came, two of them, faintly

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at first, began to connect her
to Harp and Marcus. The blue lines

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pulled energy toward her more slowly.
This time, she felt the push and

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pull of the lines as the energy
trickled from Harp and Marcus and into her

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chest. From her last dream,
she now understood the method in which she

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could push the blue out into others. Knowing this, she was able to

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control the speed with which the blue
could flow. She also felt the reservoir

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in her chest and quickly looked down
to find the flow of blue energy was

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draining from her chest and pooling on
the floor below her feet. With a

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small effort, her reservoir and began
containing the blue energy called Eastpit. Holding

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even just a small amount of Eastpit. The sensation's Emily experience were at first

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overwhelming and intoxicating. Though she knew
the danger of her current predicament, Emily

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couldn't help but feel overcome with instant
bliss. Warmth radiated from her chest.

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Her senses enhanced, enabling her to
better hear, see, and smell the

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environment around her. She had complete
control of her ispit and could sense the

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flow of energy as if a string
was pulling and pushing at her chest.

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She felt full of what she could
only describe as life itself. With a

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sense of calm knowing, Emily began
to burn the Eastpit that she had stored

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in her reservoir. This was not
something she had learned from her dreams,

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but in her awakened state, she
felt that it was the right thing to

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do. Two more lines lit up
immediately. An orange line and a green

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line simultaneously appeared and shot through the
front wall of the cabin. These lines,

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she assumed connected to hastings and September. With an effort, Emily attempted

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to push and pull at these new
lines, but they did not react the

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same way the blue lines had.
Then the world lit up around her.

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A dim and beautiful pink aura allowed
her to see all the plant life around

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the cabin. Sharp points of red
identified the animal, wildlife that hastily retreated

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further into the wood line, apparently
spooked by the gunfire. The gunfire the

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memory pulled Emily back to her senses. She shook from her reverie and brought

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her mind back to the situation at
hand. She stopped pulling the blue from

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Marcus, and in turn pushed some
of the energy back toward the Harbinger.

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This made sense now, Marcus would
need that energy, Emily. Do you

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see that the lines? Yeah?
I can see them. No, no

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lines. The room is warping though
everything is twisted. There are eyes watching

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and flowers dying. The walls are
angry, and the moon is looking away.

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Marcus. I I don't know what
that means. Are you okay?

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It's happening again, like the bank, but different. I can see you

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twisting it. You're twisting the starlight. Am I hurting you? No?

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You're not hurting me. You don't
have to stop. Can you see the

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lines? No, but I know
you're doing something. I can feel you

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expanding. Shut up the both of
you, Marcus. We need to focus.

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We can't let Harp kill Hastings.
I'm not certain what Hastings since up

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are trying to accomplish. But if
Hastings says that they're not here to fight,

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he's telling the truth. I know
it might sound strange, but he

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can't lie. It's not possible.
What do you want me to do?

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I don't know, but we need
to stop Harp. Okay, Outside,

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Hastings dragged September behind the car to
give his friends shelter from any additional gunfire.

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Although his wounds were bad and would
have been fatal for any human,

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September would survive given the right amount
of time to heal. The healing properties

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of a guide were incredibly powerful,
but slow in nature. September would not

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be helpful in any combat situations to
come. Hastings measured the risk of leaving

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September alone outside. It would only
take one headshot from Harp's sniper rifle to

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snuff out September his life force.
Hastings surveyed the area. There were no

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places that appeared to be a safer
location to hide his friend, but also

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there wasn't an easy wage for harp
to approach September without fully coming into view.

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With his friend positioned in what he
calculated to be the safest place possible,

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Hastings drew the firearm from September's holster
and placed it in his friend's left

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hand. The left arm maintained the
functional shoulder, giving September the ability to

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fire the weapon should he need.
Typically, September could fire the gun with

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the same level of accuracy from either
hand, but the pain from the two

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bullet wounds would still be a distraction. Though not ideal, this placement would

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be the most survivable by hastings estimations
the chronicler position in September and what he

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thought would be the best vantage point
should the assassin come out to finish the

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job. Hastings would have appreciated for
September to give him a quick plan to

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execute, but the wounds that his
friend had sustained were too serious for the

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guide to speak. September's breathing was
raspy and his eyes were closed more often

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than not, knowing he would have
to do this alone, Hastings gave September's

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good arm a tight squeeze. September, I know this would be an inappropriate

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time to tell you that my initial
assessment was correct and the exchange was going

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to end with one of us being
shot, So I'll save my speech for

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a more appropriate setting. I have
determined a strategy for saving our friend,

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but it's going to involve me abandoning
you here while I deal with Harp.

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If I make enough noise, I
will most assuredly keep Harp from coming out

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here and shooting you in the face, which I'm sure she intends to do

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given the chance. My plan is
to take this tree branch man will row

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it through the picture window. This
will cause a distraction where I will then

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burst through the cabin door with the
element of surprise and shoot Harp. Now

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I know what you're most likely thinking. This is a terrible plan, and

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normally I would agree with you,
But if there are two stressed anomalies in

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that cabin, then any plan I
make is most likely to be ruined anyway.

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At least this way, there's a
chance that I can save you,

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and maybe the anomalies and hopefully me. All right, that's all you're getting

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out of me at this point.
Wish me good fortune in the events of

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his fit. Oh almost forgot September. Your plan was awful and I definitely

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told you so. Inside. Emily
watched as the green line intersected and then

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pulled the orange line further away from
the cabin. The green line was decidedly

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Hastings and the orange September. While
she was worried for her friends, she

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felt a small sense of relief Hastings
would not be dragging September to safety.

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If September had been killed. He
was alive for now at least. The

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room then erupted in chaos. Marcus
rushed from her side and dove to tackle

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Harp. Harp was almost six feet
tall and physically fit, while Marcus was

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at most five foot six inches with
a smaller frame. The assassin had both

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the weight and size advantage, but
Harp's crouched position, coupled with Marcus's element

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of surprise, allowed the smaller man
to tackle the assassin into the wall and

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then knock her down. Harp let
out a grunt as her head smashed into

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the wall. Emily wasted no time
and rushed toward Harp's rifle. As she

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charged forward, Harp used her elbow
to strike Marcus's nose. The blow sent

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Marcus backwards in a daze, as
blood immediately began to pour from his face.

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This gave Harp just enough freedom to
push herself towards the rifle and grab

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its stock as Emily placed her own
hands around the center of the weapon.

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If they had both been standing,
Emily is certain that she would have lost

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this contest, but to her advantage, Harp still lay on the floor with

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arms outstretched at an odd angle.
Emily's initial goal was to grab the rifle

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and turn it on the assassin,
but the woman's grip on the gun was

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strong and it took a large effort
simply to rip the gun away. While

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she was successful, her attempt inadvertently
flung the rifle across the room. Emily

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watched as the weapon bounced once and
then slid under the couch where she had

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slept earlier this evening. Wisps of
blue issfit lines pushed and guided the weapon

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out of reach, much to Emily's
frustration. With the lower half of his

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face now covered in blood, Marcus
studied himself against the wall and stood up.

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He was still dizzy and twisting his
neck in any direction created an intense

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pain in the back of his head, but he had to help Emily.

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His clear just in time to see
Harp grab Emily's left ankle and roll across

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the floor, twisting away from Marcus. The action reminded Marcus of a crocodile

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spinning after it captured its prey.
In one swift move, the assassin had

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rolled Emily to the ground with a
twisted leg and brought herself back up to

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her knees. Panicked, Marcus grabbed
for the tube television with the intention of

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yanking it down on Harp. The
old television was heavy and took slightly more

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effort to move than he had originally
anticipated. This gave Harp the fraction of

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time she needed to die from her
crouch's position into another roll. This time,

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when she regained her footing, she
held a small glock that was previously

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holstered to her leg. Marcus hadn't
even seen her draw the weapon. One

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second, the assassin was rolling away, and the next moment her weapon was

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trained on him. He didn't even
have time to be afraid before Harp pulled

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the trigger. Emily was in the
process of rolling from her back to her

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front when the gun was fired.
The bullet struck Marcus in the chest,

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and the man dropped. Instinctually,
Emily's hand moved to cover her ears.

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The blast from the gun was deafening, and her ears began to bring almost

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immediately with an effort, Emily chanced
a glance at Harp and found that she

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had shifted her aim from Marcus to
Emily. In torpified terror, Emily squeezed

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her eyes closed. A large crash
came from the picture window and glass sprayed

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everywhere. Emily drew her knees to
her chest in an unintentional attempt to make

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herself small. Shattered glass lay on
and around her body. After what she

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assumed was too much time, Emily
realized that she had not been shot.

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She released the breath that she had
been holding and reopened her eyes to find

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Harp with her weapon, tracing back
and forth from the picture window to the

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front door. Hastings was coming to
help. Emily drew herself and positioned herself

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in a way that allowed her to
see the door, Harp, and Marcus

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all the same time. Marcus's blue
line was growing dim. In all the

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chaos, Emily had paid little attention
to the lines, but now their significance

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rushed back to her. The green
line that belonged to Hastings settled at the

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front door. The two blue lines
that ran to Harp and Marcus were quite

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noticeably different. Now, Harp's line
pulsed with energy, while Marcus's continued to

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dim. The pool of energy and
Emily's epeit reservoir remained intact even without her

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focusing on it. Emily watched the
door handle twist slowly. Harp must have

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seen it as well, because she
stopped tracing back and forth and settle her

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aim on the door. Marcus's line
flickered with a surge of energy. Emily

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pulled at Harp's blue line with all
her willpower and redirected that energy to Marcus.

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The cabin door began to open.
Emily then forced some of her back

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toward Harp. She twisted it at
the last moment, causing the eastpit to

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pour into Harp's handgun. She could
feel the chambered ground begin to swell and

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warp. The barrel began to constrict. Emily pulled harder and harder at Harp's

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lines. The action took all of
her strength, but drained Harp's eastpit.

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She stole it all. She could
feel the inside of the gun's chamber and

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sensed as the bullet casing degraded.
The door opened and Harp fired. Harp's

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weapon exploded in her hand. The
gun's slide split into several pieces, sending

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shrapnel from the weapon in multiple directions. The largest chunk of the slide struck

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Harp in the throat. The assassin
brought her ruined hand to her neck as

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she unsuccessfully gasped for breath. Emily
watched in horror as Harp fell first to

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her knees and then to the floor. The last bit of blue, a

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spit, flickered from the woman,
and the line retreated into Emily's reservoir.

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With a last push of effort,
Emily sent the blue from her chest and

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into Marcus, who still lay unconscious
on the floor. She attempted to replicate

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the way she healed the man in
her dream. Emily watched as Hastings cautiously

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entered through the door before the chronicler
could reach her. Emily's vision went black

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and she fell unconscious, Emily,
can you hear me? Emily? Are

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you certain she's not hurt? She
might be hurt, but nothing too serious.

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I cannot tell without a more thorough
assessment. I'm fine. Ah,

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you are awake. Good? You
can help me carry bodies? I don't

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think I can. My leg hurts
pretty bad. I'll try, though.

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Wait did you say bodies? Is
Marcus? No? No, he is

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not dead. He's just unconscious.
I can't seem to get him to wake

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up. Emily, are you okay? Besides the leg, I think so.

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My head is killing me and my
ears are ringing, but I think

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I'm okay. We cannot stay here
long. We have some time before the

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Contra will send a team to investigate, but we should not linger if we

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can avoid it. What happened?
I was sort of hoping you could tell

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us. I opened the door,
and then Harp's weapon exploded. The shrapnel

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killed her, and then you passed
out. I checked you four notable injuries,

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but when I found none, I
left you to check on Marcus and

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track September inside. Harp is dead. I placed her body behind the sofa.

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How was Marcus? He appears to
have been healed. I can see

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where wounds were inflicted, but upon
reviewing his body, there is only a

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scar there. Now you appear to
have more bruising than need us. No,

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I saw him get shot. How
is that possible? We're not certain.

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Maybe as an anomaly, he has
the ability to heal as well,

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and maybe his fits simply healed him
on its own. There are several theories

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that could explain it. No,
I don't think so. He isn't an

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anomaly. He's a harbinger. I'm
the only anomaly here, and I think

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I healed him. Emily, there
are no recorded cases of an anomaly healing

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someone. I think we should document
a full recounting of your experience and attempt

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to determine what could have caused the
healing. I am in no way saying

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that you are lying, but you
have been through quite a bit of trauma

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and I could be naturally mistaken.
In addition to that, I do not

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believe you have the capacity to heal
at will. There are accounts in the

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chronicler Annals that allude to the fact
that misfit can heal and is not always

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completely destructive. I am more inclined
to believe such an event occurred Hastings,

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I think it's time for us to
take a step back and reassess our knowledge

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about the chronicler annals. Maybe they
aren't as complete as you would like.

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Guys, I know what I saw. I pushed Harp's blue line into Marcus

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after he was shot. I didn't
see him get healed, but I know

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I caused that, just like I
know I caused that weapon to explode.

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Emily, are you saying that you
had a direct influence on the behavior of

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that weapon. Yeah, I think
so. You intentionally caused that explosion.

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Definitely, Hastings, what do you
make of that? I believe this would

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be the first documented example of an
anomaly directly impacting and inanimate objects such as

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a gun, as well as healing
another life form, in this case,

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Marcus. I will note that I
do believe that she had a direct impact

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on the weapon. Oh, you're
certain, m The statistical probability of a

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gun misfiring is incredibly low. Furthermore, the probability of a gun that belongs

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to someone like her, a well
trained assassin, is even lower. We

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00:26:29.480 --> 00:26:33.359
would have kept this weapon well maintained, the ammunition would have been the correct

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type for the weapon, and would
have been checked before it was loaded into

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the clip. On top of that, a misfire that resulted in a structural

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rupture would be nearly impossible without an
outside Barrian. I am leaning towards the

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conclusion that Emily is correct. She
did have direct control over the outcome of

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these events. I'm trying really hard
not to be offended that you both felt

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the need to talk through the entire
scenario simply to determine what I just said

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happened. I'm sorry, Emily,
It's not that we don't trust you.

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It's just that we've been doing this
for over four hundred years and this is

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the first time we've heard anything like
this. I too apologize, Emily.

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It's fine to be fair. I
haven't really trusted you to a whole lot

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00:27:18.920 --> 00:27:22.599
over the last couple days. Oh
good, it is resolved then, Okay,

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guys, seriously, though, I
would like to go home now,

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00:27:29.000 --> 00:27:42.720
I agree. Help me carry Marcus
if you can. Emily Swanson is voiced

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00:27:42.759 --> 00:27:48.920
by Tisha Zang. Marcus Baker is
voiced by Nico Rodriguez. Hastings is voiced

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00:27:48.960 --> 00:27:56.440
by Adam Culbertson. September is voiced
by Richard Collins. Harp is voiced by

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00:27:56.519 --> 00:28:03.839
Stitch Mayo, Chronicler rules read by
Shamus Rodriguez and narrated by Michael Cole.

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00:28:03.839 --> 00:28:08.440
You Spit Archives was written by Nico
Rodriguez in collaboration with Tisha Zang. You

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00:28:08.559 --> 00:28:14.039
Spitt Archives is a Creative Type of
Entertainment production. Find out more about our

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00:28:14.039 --> 00:28:26.720
show at www dot Creative typo dot
com. Hey, I'm Tony Kenney.

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00:28:26.759 --> 00:28:30.559
I'm the voice of Detective George Bollard, and I want to say thanks for

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00:28:30.680 --> 00:28:36.160
listening. We really appreciate you.
We hope you keep listening, and if

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00:28:36.200 --> 00:28:37.279
you do, if you like what
you've heard and you're gonna keep listening,

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00:28:37.720 --> 00:28:41.440
feel free to drop us a review
on your favorite podcatcher app or site.

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And you can also help support our
shows. On Patreon, you can get

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access to binge all available episodes.
You can get bonus content at free Content.

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There's a few tiers on there.
It's all kinds of good stuff.

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00:28:55.440 --> 00:28:57.759
I've got to give a special thank
you to Nick Meet, our executive producer.

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00:28:57.839 --> 00:29:02.680
Level Patron. You can find out
more about us and about our shows

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00:29:02.720 --> 00:29:06.119
at Creative typeo dot com. Thanks
for listening.

