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| Red Robberson vs. Gunner Wayne | |
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| Topic Started: Apr 2 2011, 08:38 AM (129 Views) | |
| Kassie Khane | Apr 2 2011, 08:38 AM Post #1 |
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SCW Presents: Breakdown: April 13, 20] Red Robberson vs. Gunner Wayne 1 RP Limit; 2 RP Limit PER TEAM for the Tag match Deadline: Noon EST Tuesday, April 12, 2011 ~~Good Lucky Everyone!~~ |
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| Gunner Wayne | Apr 8 2011, 01:39 AM Post #2 |
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Newbie
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I look though the lenses of my perception, not blinded by racial hate, quenchless greed, and dominating insecurity. For those who wish to see me as another angry black man with his imagined burden of color is for dead wrong. I know how this world works. Everyone hates. Everyone lets that hate manipulate. I’m not everyone. I’m an exception. I see my own people hate whites, then turn around and try to play the card. I see them look down upon Mexicans. I see the Mexicans look down upon us. It’s all because we all worried that it’s really is a race war out there. I look past that. Race wars are just a fabrication of the elite, trying to make us paranoid while we serve out their intentions. What does this have to do with anything? There is a hunger inside me. There is some sickness of this world we live in. Yet I’m objective, and I can see past the bullshit smeared window that we all are forced to look out. I can see the truth in small details, the greater picture, and most people will simply flounder with dealing with the shit. The shit will never be cleaned. So as I plot out my path to being the King of all I see, I am not going to be some vicious, that means there will be emotionally-based decisions. I am going to be cold, calculating as there is no room for hatred, anger, love, and jealousy. Everyone is an enemy in this realm. If I want to be able to provide for all that is truly important to me, I’m going to be have to be like ice. The kids, they depend on me for their future, I can’t let them fall to the horrors of growing up in this society. I must prevent. For my mother, who raised me as best she could, I have to repay her for the years of tender care. For myself, I must repay myself for my patience and my development. For all those haters out there, for all those fools, all of which who think I’m simply an ogre. They can believe it. I don’t care. It’s their mistake. Underestimate my ability for cognitive thought will be the biggest mistake of their short-sighted lives. I already feel as if I’m counted out as a contender, but I’m not going to let that bother me, I know who I am and I’m the only one’s opinion who matters. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The house that Gunner had built stood in front of him. The sight was a double-edged blade for Gunner; on one side, the enormous house was the physical manifestation of the work Gunner had place in life so far; On the other hand, there was also the recognition of a dream never completed. With a beep, the car was locked and Gunner ditched the keys into the pocket of his leather jacket. The door was unlocked, which didn’t surprised Gunner as the gated neighborhood was the definition of safe. Gunner stepped inside and immediately, Hope came running in from the kitchen. There was heaviness of warmth, a unheeding smile, that emerged as soon as Gunner laid eyes on his beautiful niece. Gunner scooped the girl up in his arms. Gunner Wayne: “Have you been behaving for your grandmama?” Hope Wayne: “Of course., but Granny been boring though.” Gunner Wayne: “Your granny is an old lady, Hope. She can’t keep up with kids anymore as well as she did in the past.” Hope Wayne: “It’s okay. I forgive her.” Gunner Wayne: “That’s my girl.” Gunner placed Hope down onto the floor. Hope walked off, satisfied with speaking with Gunner, even for a few minutes. Gunner then ventured into the vast kitchen. Gunner rarely enters this room as it was designed with her in mind. The entire décor was exactly how she pictured; Gunner didn’t have what it could to explain anymore. Gunner shoved such thoughts out of his mind. There was no need for such mental self-mutilation. There was his mother, her elbows resting upon the countertop, a cup of freshly-brewed tea in her hands. Gunner knew right away, his mother had an issue with him. Lauren Wayne: “A lady stopped by, Gun.” Gunner Wayne: “Yeah?” Lauren Wayne: “She seemed to be a real whore. The outfit she had one was completely tasteless. Are you involved with whores now?” Gunner Wayne: “What?” If Gunner had water in his mouth, he would have spat out in a solid spray. Gunner didn’t expect such an accusation from his own mother. Lauren Wayne didn’t seem amused by the surprised face. Gunner figured the face would probably make her suspect that he was guilty than innocent. Gunner was completely lost in this mess. Who was it that came by? Who would come back? Gunner hadn’t exactly been romantically involved for the past year or so. Gunner went to give an assuring hug to his mother, but she simply lifted her tea, not pleased at all. Lauren Wayne: “She was dressed a school girl. A white girl. Definitely the look of a porn star. You know, Gunner, I’m ashamed of you.” Gunner Wayne: “Mom, I have no idea what you are talking about.” Lauren Wayne: “She came by, looking for you. Say that you two are real close.” Gunner Wayne: “Wait-“ Lauren Wayne: “I know you’ve been lonely since she left. But Gunner, seriously! I raised you better! Even more, you dare have them come back here, when the children can see!” Gunner Wayne: “Wait a moment.” Gunner walked in front of his mother, slamming his fists down onto the countertop. Gunner knew who stopped by. Katelyn Buehler was probably the culprit. Why did she stop here? Probably to try to seduce him even more. Gunner had a very vile taste in his mouth as he found nothing attractive in that woman and after the last round of Katelyn’s attempts to lay with him; Gunner had to shower for a hour straight just to wash the filth. Worse of all, Gunner was tempted to a degree, mainly because it been months since but he was a strong man. He didn’t need such earthly desires, he needed focus and he did not want to mess with the group dynamics yet. Now this, she came to his home, which had just unleashed the gates of hell, his mother’s fury was enough to end World Wars. Gunner Wayne: “She’s simply a co-worker. She’s been making sexual advances towards me ever since I started my job.” Lauren Wayne: “It’s your fault that you picked a profession that is so involved with sin. God would judge you if you at all waivered in such temptation.” Gunner Wayne: “First of all, mom, I think I have all right to date anyone who I want to. Secondly, she’s definitely not my type. I might be lonely mom, but have I made any attempts to find someone?” Lauren Wayne: “Well, I worry son. You should date. I can hook you up with some nice ladies from our clergry. All of them are interested in.” Gunner Wayne: “And I bet they’re all super religious. You know me, I believe in god, but I’m totally not a church-going man, ma.” Lauren Wayne: “You know if you just brought around a nice girl, I wouldn’t be so worried about you.” Gunner Wayne: “I’m fine. I need to focus on my career. That’s all.” Lauren Wayne: “You know, I wouldn’t be completely mad if you did make a mistake with that whore. It will at least calm my supsicisions that you’ve turned faggot.” Gunner Wayne: “Mom!” Lauren Wayne: “It’s just that I was watching this television program, and one of the fags stated he was turned by his spouse cheated on him with his boss. And it only reminded me of you. You know how-“ Gunner Wayne: “Let’s not talk about this. You have nothing worry, I’m far from gay.” Lauren Wayne: “So you did sleep with that slut. God have mercy on your soul!” Gunner Wayne: “I can’t even talk to you, can I? Just calm down. I don’t need this. Not now.” Lauren Wayne: “Don’t talk to me with that tone. I’m your mother!” Lauren slammed her tea cup down onto the counter, its content slipping out over the rim. Lauren cracked her knuckles as she stood up onto her tip tops to appear tall. There was a scary look in her eyes. Gunner stared right into his mothers eyes. Gunner tried to stay tough, the look didn’t even scare him anymore, not since he was a boy, but the fact she was trying to intimidate him just the same way made him smile inside. Gunner nodded, knowing accepting defeat was a better fate that challenging the matriarch. Gunner gave his mother another hug and kissed her on the cheek. Gunner Wayne: “I’m sorry, mom. I’m just so stressed with work. I’ve lost two and the boss is depending on me to lead the troops to victory.” Lauren Wayne: “Well, I know how you can get with stress. It still doesn’t give you the right. Just make sure that slut doesn’t come around here. Hope is at an impressionable age.” Gunner Wayne: “I’m going to go to my room and I’ll give that woman a call and tell her what’s what.” Lauren Wayne: “You didn’t sleep with her, right?” Gunner Wayne: “No mom. I’m not that type of man. You know how well you raised me. I’ll talk to you later.” Gunner Wayne made a strategic retreat to his bedroom, where he closed the door. Out of the drawer, Gunner reached for his cigar box. However, Gunner pulled out a black g-string from the drawer. Attached to the article of underwear was a note: “Just teaser for my BBC - <3 Katelyn.” Gunner immediately tossed it on the ground, feeling as if acid had just struck his fingers from touching the thong. Gunner let out a sigh before he stepped up, and washed his hands in his bathroom sink. Gunner returned to pull his cell phone out from his pocket. Gunner dialed up Katelyn’s number, which Katelyn had personally programmed into his phone without Gunner realizing until a few days after. Katelyn Buehler: “You changed your mind, didn’t you?” Gunner Wayne: “Listen up, you psycho bitch. Don’t ever come to my house or I’m going to make sure you have no place this group. I am not interested in you. Never will be. I want a working relationship with you, that’s it. Now if you don’t understand that with the few brains cell you might have, that you should just leave the group today before you make me even more angry. In fact, just don’t talk to me unless you have to.” Katelyn Buehler: “That’s okay, what we need to talk about doesn’t involve-“ Gunner Wayne: “God damn it, bitch. I’m not joking here. Just back the fuck off. I have responsibilities, and none of them involves you. So just stay out of my way and leave me alone. I’m sick of it. Now I will see you when the next time the group meets. Only then can you communicate with me. Got it? Good.” Katelyn Buehler: “What?”-Click. Gunner snatched coat hanger from the closet, and with the hook end, he lifted up thong and dropped it into the trashcan. Gunner pulled out a bottle of air freshener and sprayed down the trashcan to make sure there’s no foul smell that might escape from his trashcan during his attempt to sleep. Gunner lay down, staring up at the ceiling. There was a long road in front of him, and a lot left to learn before he can make it to the top. Yet a part of him is enjoying this, the work, the hardships, even the annoyances that this profession has laid upon him. Gunner remembered his grandfather telling him about the feeling of creating a cabinet from boards, and there was connection from his grandfather’s creations and Gunner’s rise to the top. Gunner closed his eyes, imagining how great it will feel when he sees his investments pay off. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Supposedly you’ve been hurt, biding your time, waiting to return. Finally the doctor gave you permission. You’ve been out for a while, now the injury must have been fairly serious. I can understand how you can feel frustrated, being forced to step back from the sport you must love. I can feel how you useless you must have felt, wallowing in despair. I’ve heard stories of other professional wrestlers, and I agree to a point, it must feel like your manhood was taken away. You’re angry and you want your comeback to be highly important. You’re just a man after all. You have bread to earn. I’ve feel such feelings once, when I was younger. I was injured by shrapnel, and I was spending months in rehab. If you ever ask me, why I hate Germany, it was because I associate my recovery with that country. Now that was long time ago, and I realiezed as a result of my frustration, I made plenty of mistakes to prove to my fellow soldiers I wasn’t broken. You’re bound to make mistakes, as your eager to prove that you are a contender. I’m eager as well to prove I’m a contender. Perhaps you can figure that I’m as desperate as you. On my end, I’ve lost my two matches. Granted, Shilo pinned me while Stacy escape with the win because of disqualification. Yet I know I have delivered, for the most part, my primary objective of hurting them and distracting them. Winning is only secondary, though I must say, before anyone suggest, I was trying hard to win. Shilo managed to get the upperhand and capitalized, as someone of his experience should be able to against someone inexperience as me. Yet from the loss, I take way lessons. I’m not going to hold myself back from facing reality like some wrestlers do when they lose matches. I’m going to embrace the loss and become stronger. Can you say you do the same, Robberson? I feel you are more bitter. Before you mention Southern Alliance once more, I am going to tell you don’t bring up memories that leave a sour taste in your mouth. It’s just a distraction. Take this as some advice from someone who knows when you have the highest hope for some prospect, only to be left disappointed by the end result. Granted, I’m hoping you’re smarter than the rest of those dumb hicks that consisted the Alliance, since you were given another chance. Then again, I don’t trust management all too much and maybe they just forgot you were actually a wrestler at point. I’m only kidding, Robberson. I’m sure they like your work ethic or something along those lines. Still doesn’t excuse yourself for wholly capturing the redneck image. Why is that? Your home roots is something you should cling to, but to attach yourself to the negative sides of your heritage, it’s a sad thing to do. You don’t see me cling on the claims of being oppressed. I don’t give a damn that my great great grandfather was a slave or not. It’s no longer relevant. You shouldn’t carry the sins of the father, worse of all, you shouldn’t try to show the world that you are proud. Sleeping with cousins, not cool. Rednecks enjoy donning white hoods, and the triple K assholes still do piss me off because they still operate. I’m just hoping you’re not one of those rednecks. You see how many assumptions I can make about you, all of which is negative, when you run until the alias of the Raging Redneck. If anything, you could call yourself a true Southren Gentleman, or perhaps a good ol’ country boy. Yep perhaps my assumptions have some truth in them. Anyways, Robbereson, you’ve been stood up. They’re might be hoping people will watch this match as a race battle, white versus black. Are you going to try to make it so? Are you going to try to champion your Anglo-Saxon people, and prove to the world that white people should still be considered as competitors as well in any sport. To be honest, I don’t give a damn what race you are, I’m still going to plan on knocking you down and causing the hurt. That’s always my focus. Because if I outlast you in this sport, then I am going to be supreme. You’re simply lined up for me to hammer down. I already see it now. Going into Ride the Lightning with a win on my belt. They want me to send a message to Shilo and the rest of the circus. However, I’m going to do more than. I’m going to use to send a clear and very horrific message to the rest of the roster, especially those who think they can oppose Chad Evans and his people. I’m going to warn them that stepping in our way simply going to end with destruction. I’m partly worried- nah, who I’m kidding? You might put up a strong fight because you’re a desperate man coming off an injury, but if I have to, I will send you back the doctor’s and surely, the shape I plan on leaving you in, you’re not going to be able to come back to wrestler, permanently. I hope you have some good health insurance because you’re going to need it. |
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| Red Robberson. | Apr 9 2011, 11:45 AM Post #3 |
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The Last Something something. Yeah Rebel!
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It seems that my return is almost pretty much a success. However now that I have play my hand. It's time to see how others have called, bluffed and whatever other poker simialie I can pull out from my ass. I suppose that the chips are down. There I did get another one in. Now that I am offically back in the roster of SCW, it also means the ronin lifestyle that I had adopted toward the end of my run the first time has crept back into play. I don't mind it. It does give way to doing things as I see fit. I don't have to answer to anyone. However, it would seem issuses from my past aside from the wandering, and fact I was foricbly shelved are coming to haunt me. It's not an easy road that I had to take. It's not going to be easy to at least get myself back into some spotlight. I'm not thinking of THE spotlight. I hadn't earned that chance the first time, and nor am I am ready to take it from someone that is deserve. I can think of a few people right off the bat. My name isn't in that list. Perhaps I'm being modest, or lacking self worth. Either way, I know my place. I have to start from the bottom once again. So it comes to my second match at Breakdown. Facing a man most only known as Chad Evan's bodyguard. If Chad Evans calls himself God, then why a bodyguard? God is suppose to be perfect right? Thus wouldn't need to have one. Red, just drop it, you need to stop overthinking. It's wrestling after all. Scene 1: Not exactly what I had in mind. While I have made adjustments in my life to things changing in my life. I cold easily make those transitions. However, for the roommate I have taken up, things are not exactly going as swimmingly for him. First off, he moved from out of state, taken up two jobs. And just had to sell the house that he lived in all of his life. Although he loves to work whatever job he has taken, he seems to be more and more withdrawn from life. I should say people with the exception of myself. Maybe it's his workload. When he's not at work, he is constantly in his room. The only sound I could be hear is the frantic typing at his keyboard. I try knocking on his door. Red: Hey, Frank, do you want to come and maybe, I don't know, get a drink? Try to meet some girls. Movie? Thompson: No, I'm ok. Got a lot of things I wanna do. I rather be alone for the moment. Red: I'm not trying to embarass you or anything. Thompson: No no, I'm ok. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Red: Well alright then. If you need anything from me, I'll have my phone so call me. Thompson: Maybe some red bull and a a bag of doritos. Red: Cool Rnach, Nacho Cheese? Thompson: Taco and cheeseburger. Red: Thought you wanted Doritos? Thompson: No, they're acutally newer flavors. Almost creepy that they nailed the flavor right on the head. That's just gross. I have made my attempt to try and get him at least out of the house. I realll don't know if he would want to. But I guess that's his choice. I can't force him to do something that he doest want to. I will just go out and do things by myself for tonight. Scene 2: The "Old" Man at the Club. It guess I was pretty young when I first left New Orleans to persue my acting. So I never got the chance to truly explore the wild night life that my hometown had to offer. I makes me feel out of place, more so that I do with my career as a wrestler. Things are just strange in these place. The music is really loud. The beer costs five times more than it does when I just pick up a case at the liquor store. And the thell is up with all the buubles? I sit at the bar, drinking my sixtten dollar bottle of some mircobrew I had already forgotten the name of. There was nothing truly impressing me about the drink. My causal observation of the club makes me feel even more uncomfortable. The women I couldn't really even call them wemen, more or less they were all teenagers. I grab the bartender's attention. Red: Hey, what's going on here tonight? I had to yell just to make sure I was heard. Tender: It's a bubble party. We fill the dancefloor with soap bubbles and let the kids come in and dance. It's kinda sucks if you ask me because they're nearly all underage. So I don't get any tips. Red: When do the real women come in here? Tender: Hardly ever. This place is mostly a college hangout. If you want women, you gotta find one of the vampire clubs. Though, I've heard that girls are taking over them since that Twilight stuff came out. Red: Well what about women that are not obessessed with bubbles and sucking blood? Any of them left? Tender: No way brother! You aren't from around here are ya? Red: I was born and raised here, just never did the club scene. Tender: Jesus dude. Maybe if you were like ten years younger.. Red: I'm 26. I'm not that old. Tender: Ok, try this one then. I want you to try and talk to, hmm. That girl there by herself. Looks pretty cute huh? You get her number, you drink for free. Red: And if I don't. Tender: Buy the bar a round. Shit! That's like four hundred dollars at their prices. Red: What the hell. You're on there I walk over in the direction of the girl that was pointed out to me. She looked about 20. But I know that looks can be tricky. When I was doing movies and stuff, one of my costars took me aside and told me the following advice: If a girls looks 20, tells you she's 24, she's 12. If a girl looks 20 tells she's 20 she's damn near 40. Red: Hey, what's going on? I Girl: Hey! Can you buy me a dirnk? Red: I just wanted your name, get to know ya. Girl: Gah! As if. I want to get drunk but none these boys have good enough fake ids. Red: Why not just go to a frat party. Girl: What the fuck is a frat party. I start to rubbing the bright between my eyes. This girl just doesn't have a clue. It's more than clear she's just here to get drunk. I'm not going to be used that way. Red: Frat party, you know like a frat house at a school. Girl: I'm in high school. That's it. Done. I shake my head. and walk back to the bar. Pulling out my wallet. It's going to hurt pretty bad on the old pocketbook. Red: A fucking little girl. What kind of place are you running here? I slammed about 300 bucks on the bartop. Tender: I don't make the rules. Just take orders. Thanks man. Sure most the people are going to love you now. Red: Bullshit. bet half of them hadn't seen a real movie like The Godfather. Some girl within earshot: My godfather is super awesome! He bought me a pony for my sweet 15 last month! ReD: My point exactly. Scene 2: Trails and Tribulations. Promotional Work. A glorious absence of sophification. That I had heard several times in the past. It comes from stand comedian Jeff Foxworthy. It regards the definition of redneck. Granted he makes jokes about rednecks. And in fact, it had gotten him all his fame and moterity. But he has said several times, that not all rednecks come from the South. He has encountered rednecks from all over the country. From sunny California. To the forzen wasteland best known as Minnesota. He also admits himself to being one from time to time. I find it odd that immediately I have to find myself in a "race" war. It's stupid and degrading that we still have to regard to one another by the color of our skin. Maybe it's liberal tendencies coming out from me, but certainly something I honestly don't care about. I understand that I will be facing Diamond or is it Spade or both? I don't know I think he assexually reproduced somehow. But nevertheless. He's a man that is not of thesame color as I am. He shares the same color as my Breakdown opponent Gunner Wayne. That's the only thing that they share in common. There, I said it, it's out of the way. Gunner is a man. Human, blah blah blah. Though he seems fixiated on the fact of my nickname. Yes I use Raging Redneck. But that's just it. It's only a nickname. I feel like I have to dig out from the old archive to prove my point. As it does bear repeating. While promoting my match against James Exeter back in Feb. 2009, he made a point on par with Gunner's comment about The Redneck nickname. I have stated then, and I will state now. It was for marketing purposes during my days as an actor. It just happened to stick. Not as much here in SCW by when I end up meeting fans of cult classic movies. Now, this would be the first time I'll be facing anyone associated with Chad Evans. The only time I had worked with someone in his group is a 6 man tag match at Retribution back in 2009, and that man was Ace Marshall. We won that match, but he has started to fall off the wayside. In all honesty, there is no real need that I see in stopping Chad and your little group. The reason is simple. I prefer to liken myself to a wandering ronin. I walk in SCW going from match to match. Seeing where each path will take me. If it leads to a championship match. It does. I'm fine either way. I like praciticing my craft as a wrestler. So you're right in a snese. I'm in the way. I don't go down easily. However, the likilihood that you will be putting right back on the shelf is very unlikely. Especially since that you've made that promise. That first time I heard that sort of line was from Damien Angel. I acutally defeated him twice before he could acutally put me away. So, in that train of thought. I will put you down, and make you think twice about how you word things. I will break this promise of yours. Win or lose. I'm not going anywhere, any time soon. That sounds like a rather pathetic cliche. Red pauses as he takes a seat at his desk at his loft in New Orleans. He reashes down and pulls out Roget Ebert's "Big Book of Hollywood Cliches" He starts to flip through. Red: In the movies, we often see black men like yourself being typecasted. They are muscle. And that's exactly what you are. I have faced muslce. I do have a pretty good record against those larger than me. In fact, I'm undfeated. By no means that mean I should take it easy. I know there's going to be a big man that wants to go and take me for a three count and get that elisive win. Maybe it will be Gunner Wayne. I can't say for sure. It all depends on what he wants to bring to that match. Words and threats and promises can only go so far. The action you have proven to us, that you're good at surprising people. Doing what you're needed to by your employer Chad Evans. However, you claim to be a distraction at times. That your losses don't matter. Shilo and Stacy. I'm sure you've learned something from those losses. I'm not exactly the perfect wrestler. And much like you, when I started this business, I came to SCW as a complete rookie. With nothing to go on but my training and my acting career. So I would lose from time to time. I have taken things from my losses, and my wins as well. I constantly learn everything that I can, so I can have my next match with some form of improvemnt. I learned that just because you completed your training as a wrestler, doesn't mean you have learned everything that you needed to learn to be a success. You need to learn how to counteract things your oppoenents bring to the table. How to trick your opponent into saying things that you want them to. To succeed in wrestling you need to outthink and outplay your opponent. Now, if you wish for examples, Let me point some things out. My first loss ever was given to me by Alex Desoubrais Jr. and I too had lost to Stacey Kissenger. You got lucky and lost via aDQ. She had my number that night. I learned to take a beating, to endure pain. To be just a little faster than I had been. So when a rematch came around in the form of a 6 man tag team with them and Damien Angel. Red Robberson had become the winner. My ability to learn my mistakes and overcome them is noted as I was able to keep up with men that are faster than I am. Men who are larger. Me with obivously more techincal know how. I have endured. So I can say many things. But my track record alone should have taught you something. That you shouldn't be complacent when it comes to facing me. Weather or not I'm back from an injury or not. Spotlight or not. I will provide the same drive no matter what. Thus, being desperate, is something that I will be bringing. Breakdown, you will see what exactly I'll be bringing to the table. Let's see how our hands play out. |
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7:15 PM Jul 10