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The three guys had hurled Matt out of the bar, and right into a brick wall. At least it felt like a brick wall, until Matt looked under him to see that it was just a really big fella in a Blue Sun t-shirt with a wicked looking revolver strapped to his hip. “Uh, hey there,” Matt greeted the guy he’d landed on. “Uh…hey,” the big man said, a little confounded. “D’ya mind getting’ off?” “Uh… oh, yeah. Sorry,”
-- Ashes: Of Browncoats and Barfights by Reaverman
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