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Story No. 8725
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we all need to be
singing from the same hymn sheet. If any of them got this wrong it would be the end. One by one they
carried the body bags out. The smell was unbelievable.
The cruel smell of burnt deisel and infection sat on my upper lip all day. It just wouldn't go away, day after day
night after night into the sweaty afternoons filled with sex and violence
the end was near. I sat back on my haunches, drank a diet Pepsi and watched the show!
