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Over the years Blodeuwedd had shown an aptitude for reading other people's body language something she did without really thinking. People, of all stripes, that she couldn't read tended to fascinate her and when not training or working out details of there cover she had spent ages watching Wraith.

 

Of cause the rest of the group she could read quite well including Foreshadow. She appeared just beside his ear as he returned from where ever he'd been, another thing she tended to do by habit.

 

 

"Something seems to be bothering you today. Is there something wrong with the training?" as part of their cover she had dropped her natural accent and spoke with an almost perfect American accent.

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Foreshadow hadn't quite expected someone to come out of nowhere as soon as he entered the room.  The surprise quickly faded as her question soon registered in the acrobatic hero's mind.  Either he was being more transparent than he was used to.  Or Foreshadow was simply underselling the girl's talents which was more than reasonable she .  Neither were of the utmost concern at the moment as she was waiting a response, "Thanks for the concern.  But nothing of the sort.  My mind has just been wandering.  I've been a bit curious as to what could have possibly broken apart the Raven's last team for this op.  Assuming it was another team of four like us, I can't help but grow curious as to what could have happened that left none of them available."  

 

It wasn't a lie.  Not completely that is enough of the truth was sprinkled in there to count.  Sure, he happened to omit the more sensitive details that led to any distraction he may be feeling.  Foreshadow could have covered up by mentioning something reasonable like regretting not spending the holiday with loved ones.  Or even explaining the whole seeing into the future thing.  But the week was an entire exercise in team building, Erick assumed it'd be counterintuitive to the whole affair if he tried outright manipulating the people he'd be trusting his neck to.

 

So he opted for a bit of controlled truth.  "Appreciate the concern of course.  But the training's fine, just overstimulated with curiosity.  Oh, I'm thinking an Owl.  If you're wondering on costume gimmick I'm going with."

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The car arrived at the appointed hour on the appointed day, signalling itself by a single beep from outside. The black stretch limo looked rather out of place on the streets of Greenbank, the sort of thing that would certainly attract attention from anyone watching their warehouse. From the moment they stepped outside, then they'd be in-character until they reached their destination - one that in theory, after days of training together and new cover identities for, they were now ready for. It was cold and wet when they stepped outside, even for Freedom City in November, perfect for a day spent inside somewhere warm and dry. The locals in the audience would probably be pretty happy - too bad the participants in bloodsports were going to have other things on their minds indeed. 

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Foreshadow, or Night Owl, as he would be going by was perfectly comfortable inside of a limo.  It wasn't hooded acrobat's first stretch limo and certainly wouldn't be his last.  Night Owl had a half face v shaped mask that underneath his hood appeared much like a beak in the right light.  His utility belt was still adorn on his person with much of the equipment having to have been jury rigged for an Avian theme.  His eye shaped throwing rings exchanged for a set that he would dub 'talons'.  And there was a general shift in the palette with a complete remodel of the baseline uniform ditching the cape completely.  Which technically afforded more breadth of movement but Erick really liked the cape.

 

Having adopted a far more silent and stoic demeanor for the purpose of his guise, Erick simply folded his arms without uttering a single word.  He was intending to give their spectators a show that they'd not soon forget.  The amount of effort it took to convert pieces of his bulk ordered armaments to an entirely new theme guaranteed he would have to put forth the effort after all.  The Russian hero wasn't bothered by the temperature, his focus solely on the looming task at hand.

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Wraith steeled herself - literally and figuratively - before stepping outside. She certainly didn't resemble the smooth, silver creature that had first shown up: her surface was a darker, matte gunmetal, and she'd fashioned her form into something like a monstrous raptor machine. A flat head with three eyes topped a thick but relatively small body, most of her mass now dominated by a pair of long, folded bird legs and a pair of menacingly over-sized 'wings' that she used to help her walk, like some avian parody of a gorilla or wyvern. All four limbs were tipped with heavy, sharp claws, and her whole body - from the flare around the top of her head to her somewhat more saurian tail - was edged and bristled with metallic feathers.

She looked like some kind of bird-themed inventor's idea of a combat robot or cyborg, really, which had rather been the point. 'Tengu' looked around, eyeing the limousine. "Showtime."

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Crimson Tiger was, for the moment, put away. Mali stepped into the car as Silver Shikra. Her costume was silver, with a stylized bird of prey on her chest.  She wore a pair of goggles as the only thing that interrupted what was otherwise a complete face mask. She wore all silver, from head to toe, assuming it would help keep her identity secret. She said nothing as she leaned back in the car and thought about how potentially dangerous it would get.

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Like Foreshadow Blodeuwedd went for Owl as a code name choosing Screech Owl as her moniker, Barn Owl didn’t sound as threatening. As such she had altered her costume to resemble Foreshadows new costume as closely as possible suggesting perhaps that the two of them were related in some way, maybe brother and sister. Lucky few villains were educated in Welsh lore to know that in the legend Blodeuwedd was transformed into a owl.

 

The sword was a little more troublesome she would have like to leave, it was an obvious identifier of her identity, but considering the opponents they were facing the sword was a necessity. The sword wasn’t to obviously her weapon, it was a simple medieval broadsword, but rather the blue flames that flowed around it’s blade. So after a little bit of experimentation, they had had plenty of time, she had managed to alter the eldritch flame that licked the sword to glow a rather more threatening black.

 

She sat in complete silence they’d planned for this event for the last couple of weeks and no more needed to be said until they were in the ring.

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The stretch limo was luxurious on the inside, complete with wet bar and accouterments, with the driver's opaque partition rolled up to allow for complete privacy. The heroes found a note inside in a variant of flash paper that crumbled to flameless smoke when they'd all finished reading it - "'Arrive via stealthed teleporter. Big event' promised tonight. 'Grand Barbarian Venatore.' Stay alive and wait for my signal. Remember who the real enemy is. -R" A short drive carried them down a few blocks to what turned out to be another deserted-looking warehouse, albeit one with brightly-glowing security lights outside and a single metal door that hung wide open - the 'glare' from inside the building (which was of no natural light) making it impossible for the heroes to see inside. Once they steeled themselves to step through (still having seen nothing of their chauffeur), they found themselves elsewhere. 

 

 

"Good, good, you're here!" They were elsewhere, in a metal-lined corridor that ended in a blank wall from which they'd stepped and led out to a broad set of double doors. "I thought you'd never make it!" With her multi-colored hair, sharp professional dress, and flashing eyes, the tall, close-to-middle-aged Eurasian woman who greeted them could have been any one of a thousand of her type. "The crowd's getting restless. We've even got the ET feed running, and the subspace feedback's gonna be like Khania on wheels if we don't get it started in five. New Birds of Prey - Names?" she asked seriously, holding up a clipboard as she studied the four disguised heroes. 

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"Silver Shikra." Mali said as she stepped forward, her voice cold and detached. She kept her normally hot-blooded nature suppressed and took in the surroundings. She even planned to avoid her typical knee and elbow heavy style in the ring. With any luck, no one would connect Shikra to Crimson Tiger.

 

She stepped forward because she wanted to get things moving. She did not want them to get suspicious of the four of them, and she figured the faster they got into the ring, the faster they could start getting things done.

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Night Owl stepped forward after Mali and stared at the Eurasian woman.  For the longest time he simply stared into the woman's eyes.  Not a single word uttered.  Before finally he reached for his escrima sticks.  Aiming it at the woman's throat he'd keep the weapon a good inch away from actually making contact.  "Night...Owl."  Jerking the stick back he'd point at the celtic ninja nearby.  "Screech...Owl."  Finishing up with the robotic looking Wraith.  "...Tengu."

 

Growling slightly Night Owl would retrieve his weapon attaching it to the magnetic holster clip.  Walking away as if his time had just been was wasted the Night Owl began brooding near the limousine.  Not uttering another word.  Erick considered if he was overplaying the part.  If he had been crashing the party as Foreshadow he would have gone about it with a much more light hearted tone.

 

However, that wasn't the mask he had donned for tonight's festivities.

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"Remember to pose when they announce you," the manager went on. "So they can do a freeze-frame and run your bio underneath. The manager is watching from behind the black screen ten yards up on the far wall; everything else is cameras and holoprojections. Think black box theatre." She turned to leave, counting down with her fingers to signal the heroes to move forward, and just as she disappeared through a cunningly-concealed door in the side of the wall added, "Remember who the real enemy is!" 

 

Once the heroes were down the corridor, they found themselves in a place that looked oddly less grand than the fully-edited arena they'd seen on the screen. It wasn't that the picture they'd had was false - but it had obviously been created through heavy use of CGI. The bars and obstacles were all there, the arena towering high over their heads, the scaffolding on the walls to let non-fliers ascend, the cover provided by what looked like fallen statuary and an overturned high-tech chariot; but the blue sky, the stands full of screaming fans, those were replaced by black matte paint dotted with thousands of shimmering dots that looked like tiny camera lenses, no doubt the source of that seamless camera work they'd observed in their practice bouts. It all looked heavily armored, too, the kind of room that could hold multiple super-battles to first blood...or more. 

A hatch on the bottom of the 'stage' showed where their target would be making its entrance, based on the videos they'd seen before. Once they all were inside, the doors swung shut, leaving them in an 'arena' about as big as Claremont's soccer field. They had a moment to compose themselves before a female announcer's voice came on from speakers overhead, from the sound of things near that manager's window they were watching for. "Presenting the NEW BIRDS OF PREY!" Trumpets played as the voice went on, her throaty tone rising in excitement, "the terrible TENGU! The sinister SILVER SHRIKA! The silent SCREECH OWL! And her vicious husband; the nasty NIGHT OWL! Together, they are the NEW BIRD OF PREY!" 

 

A clanking came from beneath the stage as the hatch slid open, its thick metal frame showing impervium, or maybe something more exotic, that could hold in a true super-battle. "And now, in a VERY special presentation, we have a BRAND-NEW trophy in the CIRCUT MAXIMUS! He came to Earth to steal  our minds and conquer our world, but we've beaten him time and time again! And now, it's time to see his BLOOD SPILL! Ladies and gentlemen," and now a voice was breaking through from the stage as a figure rose on the concealed platform beneath, struggling against chains that bound him to the floor, his eyes wide with hate as he glared at the heroes and shouted threats at those above, and oh it was an all-too-familiar figure who loomed above them. 

 

"THE META-GRUE!" 

 

Darr'Kan looked them in the eye and said with venomous hate, "I will get out of this, and when I do, none of you are safe, you-" and then he screamed in agony as the collar around his neck, the same binding collar that had held the other 'trophies' in place, lit up with an eerie red glow that soon was matched by a mindless glow in his eyes. He roared like a mindless, wounded animal now, his body swelling into something ferocious and multilimbed like a red-skinned serpentine spider as the announcer yelled, 

 

"Let the combat - BEGIN!" 

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Wraith - Tengu - was pretty sure she'd had enough: enough of this place (being in it, even briefly, was even worse than watching it on video), enough with waiting (silently stalking prey for hours was not the same as cooling your heels in a hideout), and enough with stands full of cowards who couldn't even show up in person to watch their terrible, insulting, morally reprehensible blood sports.

The appearance of a Grue was the last straw, and if she'd had teeth she would have ground them. The moment they got the signal to begin she pushed off the ground, legs propelling her matte metal mass with surprising speed toward their opponent - her first strike with a heavy, taloned hand >missed its mark, but as the most durable and easily-healed team member present she largely just wanted its attention. They had to be ready for a signal, and it would be hard to be ready if a crazed Grue broke somebody.

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One had to be insane to just dive right in against the Meta-Grue if they weren't packing as big of a cannon as it.  Which made 'Night Owl's' actions down right certifiable.  Not hesitating for even a fraction of a moment as he moved after 'Tengu'.  Alright, I get it.  I  get it.  Don't forget who the freaking enemy is.  Someone remember to tell him next time.  The man normally known as Foreshadow knew well enough to expect that a battle of attrition wouldn't be in their favor.

 

 The already normally fearsome grue had been warped into a wild beast.  Coordination would be key, luckily they had put forth the effort to train together with one another and had a numbers advantage.  Things would be alright as long as it didn't break one of them.  Avoiding immediately reaching for one of his weapons, 'Night Owl' would position himself near enough to 'Tengu' so that when the shapeshifter aimed another attack, he could help to force the Meta-Grue into a more disadvantageous position.  Shuffling around to send out a jab or whatever else felt appropriate when his ally needed such assistance.

 

Normally this would be the point where Erick would feel most comfortable exchanging barbs or quips.  Perhaps even openly discussing a strategy.  Instead he had to settle for the roars of the giant red spider like creature as the only sound of comfort to keep him sane.

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The monstrously-warped Meta-Grue went for Wraith, skittering saurian-spider form snapping for her with huge claws. Towering well above their heads and stretching out long, the mighty beast's power made him a formidable opponent indeed for a team that was (mostly) all-too-human. He was an animal now, targeting the creature that had sought to strike him first, but no less ferocious or powerful for that. A single claw like a great crab's snapped shut along one of her limbs and he smashed Wraith backwards into a scaffolding, shattered wood showering in a cascade of splinters as a living metal body made contact with fragile earthly oak. Maybe not everything here was as armored as it looked! 

 

"Ooh, a palpable hit by the Meta-Grue!" called the announcer again. "Does he have what it takes to pluck these birds' feathers?" 

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Mali moved in fast. This was the Meta-Grue. This could be very dangerous, even deadly. Freeing him might be on the list of things to do, but not with him in this state. Preferably, he'd be unconscious. Mali watched Wraith take a vicious hit. This was not good, not good at all. Still, she was light, she was fast, and she could hit hard. With any luck, they could do some serious harm to him.

 

She feinted. He lashed out where she used to be, and she set him up for a vicious haymaker. The strongest hit she could throw. The hardest she could possibly hit. She slammed her fist into his side and...nothing. At all, didn't even register.

 

Okay, new plan.

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Wife, wife? She was going for sister obviously the disguise made her look a more mature than she actually was. But right now was probably not the best time to worry about such thing she had better things to focus upon, like the threat of the Meta-Grue.

 

Taking a step back to gain a  good overview on everything, though she hoped it didn’t make her look to bad on camera, she drew her sword Dyrnwyn now glowing an unhealthy black. After assessing the situation for a few more seconds she made a dash and roll towards the Meta-Grue slashing as she came up aiming for what she hoped was a vital spot.

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Tengu shook herself free of wooden debris, lurching up onto powerful legs and loping back into the fight. Whatever Wraith had done while forming her 'disguise' certainly seemed to have helped: the arm that had been clenched in the Meta-Grue's claw held superficial scratches in its matte grey surface, but was otherwise untouched.

She took full advantage of Night Owl's distractions, charging in to drive a metal fist straight into the alien's body...and, unfortunately, didn't seem to have any more success than the mind-controlled alien had with her. Three black eyes narrowed in frustration as she backed away a step. If this fight didn't start turning around soon, they were going to need other options.

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'Night Owl' reached for his utility belt in the aims of picking something a little less forceful to strike the beast.  Holding onto a single metallic rod he'd spring forward before eventually actually leaping on top of the large scorpion shaped Meta-Grue.  Immediately kicking off the beast's body in that very same motion.  Leaving the disguised acrobat somersaulting backwards away from the shapeshifting alien that wasn't on their side.  Taking advantage of his distracting movements to force an opening from the massive beast, he'd lunge forward with his free hand striking with the end of his stun rod.  A large voltage of electricity sent flowing into alien's body.

 

Meta-Grue's horrid howls filled the arena momentarily before it backed off taken aback.  It wasn't enough to put the being out of commision.  But clearly enough to slip it's focus before it could further retaliate against the other members of the Raven's rag tag team.  This was to be a show and the disguised Foreshadow was not above theatrics.  Performing a neck cutting motion tauntingly with the stun rod to get a rise out of those not in attendance watching.  Inwardly he wasn't completely as sure as his demeanor carried forth.  Their attempts at hurting the Meta-Grue despite the alien conqueror not being in its right mind had been for naught thus far.  And the idea of trying to free it and convince it to temporarily work together against a shared enemy, well that didn't sound like it could end well either.  

 

An unconscious Meta-Grue was the only cooperative Meta-Grue after all.  "...."

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She watched as Foreshadow electrocuted the Meta-Grue, sending it into a daze. It was time to act, and act fast. She knew that if they let their foe recover, it could mean very, very bad news. Crimson Tiger lunged forward. She hopped to the right and watched as the Meta-Grue turned it's head to face her. At that moment, she jumped back left. She hopped into the air and delivered a ferocious left to the side of the Meta-Grue's head. She heard the impact and knew he had to have felt it. She watched his head snap to the right from the impact of the blow.

 

She had clocked the Meta-Grue. She was amazed at the combination of luck and skill that it took to deliver a strike that powerful. She didn't let herself succumb to excitement. This was a potentially deadly battle. She could not risk losing focus, not even for a second.

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With not a little effort Blodeuwedd remained calm and took the time to watch how Meta-Grue fought off, mostly, they best efforts to strike the Grue. Grue or not he wasn’t happy and his movement and attacks reflected that she had always been trained not to get angry in combat, angry people tended to make mistake.

 

Finally happy that she had the situation fully read, at least for now, she moved through with some speed looking as though she was going for a rather obvious attack with her glowing black sword, only to shift her entire position and attempt to strike the creature elsewhere than he would expect.

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Battered now, the wounded Meta-Grue staggered briefly as he sought to collect his wits. He had taken some powerful, well-placed blows from the assembled heroes, but was clearly still in the fight. He bled from his lip and his eye, but looked like a prizefighter at the end of the first round rather that the end of a long sluggign match. Overhead, the announcer was in fine form, her throaty-voiced joy almost palpable in the thick, heated air of the combat arena. "ALIEN BLOOD HAS BEEN SHED! Look at it!" At her words, the Meta-Grue looked up, even in his mindless state seeming to catch the intent of her words. "No longer will humans cower in fear before the Grue or any other would-be conquerors! Today our CHAMPIONS rise and you get TO SEE IT ALL RIGHT HERE IN THE CIRCUT MAXIMUS!" Piped in, the heroes could hear the sound of a cheering crowd, an audience baying for the blood of the monster that had done so much to try and take the Earth from its rightful inhabitants! 

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Wraith's three-eyed gaze shifted between the Meta-Grue's fearsome shape-shifted weapons and his wounds, and when his gaze went up to look for the source of the announcer's voice so did hers. She'd have bitten her lip, if she'd had one to bite (or teeth to bite it with); the alien-in-disguise had a mind full of intense dislike for their situation, but a duty to be there - intense dislike for their opponent, but an instinct that this fight, this way, was so unbelievably wrong that it overrode just about anything else.

Fine, then. Her allies favored precision and agility over raw strength - if they were to cut this fight short, the least she could do would be to help them out.

Settling down onto all four limbs, the 'Tengu's' body exploded into a mass of writhing, segmented tendrils, each appearing from between metallic feathers to bind itself around any reachable limb or surface their enemy had available. She dug into the ground with four sets of talons, trying to anchor their mindless foe and hold him in place for the rest to deal with. Quickly, she hoped; moving that much mass around left her effectively hollow and she wasn't keen on testing the limits of her strength while trying to maintain the 'Tengu' disguise this way.

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'Night Owl' watched as 'Tengu' began exemplifying just how odd of a sight two shapeshifters fighting truly was.  Anatomy didn't play into it in the traditional sense.  At least in the sense in that there was a limitation to said anatomy that one couldn't get around.  Both for Meta-Grue and their own shifter whom had released a swarm of tendrils to ensnare the would be conqueror.  It was the perfect opportunity to concentrate all their fighting power into taking him out of the picture.  But why let the audience write the script to the show?  

 

No, it was the perfect opportunity to approach things from a different tact as well.  Twirling the stun rod in his hands, the disguised acrobat would stow the weapon away before reaching for his tried and true Escrima Sticks set on the clamps on the side of his legs.  The Meta-Grue was completely open in the aftermath of the combined assault he had just pushed his way through.  But he was nowhere near being out of the fight, not yett.  But Erick wasn't going to let the alien shapeshifter go out a mindless animal at least.

 

Edging forward 'Night Owl' drove his escrima stick directly into the slave collar as hard as he could.  Following up the motion with split second precision by furiously driving the second stick on top of the other increasing the force behind behind attack by slamming them down like a staff.  Slowly tearing into the device without discussing the course of action before acting upon it.  "Today...you are not the enemy." 'Night Owl' practically snarled the words as they escaped his lips.  Even with Raven's little reminder, the Meta-Grue wasn't their friend either.  "Unless you choose to be."

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For Foreshadow, it was like being a cat grappling with a lion and demanding its surrender, even as he tore free the collar that kept the battered Meta-Grue in chains. At least until, from within the great bulk of the shapeshifted Grue came "...I yield to you." From around the heroes came the sound of energy systems firing up and that black, lens-capped wall that lay between them and the mysterious producers above their heads was now dotted with another row of lights that looked distinctly like muzzles. The announcer's voice came again, clear as a bell, having evidently recovered from her earlier excitement. 

 

"Now that our heroes have defeated this disgusting alien parasite, it's time for them to remember their place as our champions and KILL it while the whole world can see. Go ahead, Birds of Prey!" she added, her voice a clear, professional command, "Tear him limb-from-limb!" 

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Information was a dangerous tool to be armed with.  Especially when one passed it around all too readily.  Thanks to the manager's tour he knew there was about thirty feet separating them from the image of the manager as they were assured.  That was certainly enough to hide one's actions.  And possibly not even enough to react to any changes in the programming before it was too late.  Foreshadow ignored the overhead request as it wasn't even worth considering.  Instead his attention moved on to the Meta-Grue.  He somehow doubted playing dead was part of the boisterous being's repertoire.  Which left a less than subtle route.  Besides the room was practically a bomb shelter the way it was armored a little extra muscle did not seem like a downside.  "You made the right choice.  Now I believe you declared that once you were free you would make them all pay did you not?  How about we get started on that?"

 

They couldn't exactly stand around asking the Meta-Grue for directions around the facility.  Raven was positive there could be hundreds in attendance not counting the ones getting the broadcast itself.  Which meant even if the audience wasn't in this room.  It stood to reason with the fanciful entrance walk they got, the audience was somewhere.  Foreshadow stood tall holding his escrima sticks firmly as he took on aggressive posture.  Tapping both against one another overhead for the sake of theatrics.  Intent on making it appear as if he was adding flash before a killing blow the loud clank of metal on metal filled the area.  Maintaining a low whisper as he performed his theatrics Foreshadow would address the others.  "How about it?  I already made one call without discussion.  Not looking to make two.  Only immediate options I see are either faking the big guy's death.  Or the five of us just going wild in this place until the cavalry sweeps in to make their arrest.  Either way, I'd say there should be enough evidence for them to be caught in the act."

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