Gta san andreas hot coffee

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We want to thank you for what you've done.” “Hello, Patrick?” The accent on the end of the line was unmistakably New Yorker. Eyes still closed, Wildenborg lifted the receiver. It was prompted not by an infant's wail but the hysteria of a telephone ringing in the night. With a one year-old baby in the house he was familiar with the fug of a deep sleep cut short by noise. Not for the first time that month, Patrick Wildenborg was disoriented.

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