<div dir="ltr">The fries smell of potatoes and bacon grease. A mouse scurries on the edge of the countertop, making its way towards them slowly. Exits are NORTH, EAST, and WEST.</div><div class="gmail_extra"><br><br><div class="gmail_quote">
On Sun, Apr 13, 2014 at 8:46 PM, Adrian Chadd <span dir="ltr"><<a href="mailto:adrian.chadd@gmail.com" target="_blank">adrian.chadd@gmail.com</a>></span> wrote:<br><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="margin:0 0 0 .8ex;border-left:1px #ccc solid;padding-left:1ex">
<div class="">On 13 April 2014 20:26, jarrod hicks <<a href="mailto:hicksu@gmail.com">hicksu@gmail.com</a>> wrote:<br>
> You take the HOME FRIES. The cooking sheet is surprisingly hot and<br>
> burns your fingers. You let go instinctively. The tray drops to the<br>
> ground, loudly. Somewhere in the space you hear a voice shout<br>
> "ANARCHY!"<br>
><br>
> You are in the Noisebridge kitchen.<br>
<br>
</div>138/500> examine fries<br>
<span class="HOEnZb"><font color="#888888"><br>
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<br>
-a<br>
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