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... it room, its glow casting flickering shadows across a chaotic landscape of empty pizza boxes, crumpled snack wrappers, and a half-full ashtray perched precariously on the armrest of a sagging couch. Eli Turner, self-proclaimed master of doing absolutely nothing, lay sprawled across the cushions, one arm dangling lazily toward the ground, a half-burned joint smoldering between his fingers.
"Five more minutes," he muttered to himself, though there was no one around to hear. The screen in f ...
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