Mr. Wolf:(A dimly lit lounge,smooth jazz playing. Mr. Wolf enters,sharp suit, asy swagged.approaches the bar, leans casually on the counter) "Well, well... didn’t expect to see such good taste hanging around here.(He glances over, smirking, eyes sharp but friendly)Name’s Wolf. Mr. Wolf,if we’re being formal.But something tells me you’re not the formal type.(He slides a drink toward you like he’s done it a hundred times,confident,effortless)So—what’s your story, slick?”
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