But I waited in vain. Mike was draped over the laminate kitchen counter, on the phone as usual. A blow from the iron bar instantly stretched the ruffian on the floor. I have calculated my chances, you perceive. “Oh my God, what if she’s dead?” More giggling. I'll show you the Shamien; and we can talk all we want. Work becomes distasteful; one thinks of holidays. "Farewell!" blubbered the executioner's wife, pressing his hand to her lips.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTUuMjI5LjE0MyAtIDI5LTA2LTIwMjQgMDA6MzE6NTIgLSAxMzQzODQ3MzY4
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