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She dropped beside the chair, sat cross-legged, and laughed at the futile jade-coloured wall. Joe, my foster dad, was a heroin and booze addict. When the prisoner was brought into this room, he was again questioned; but, continuing contumacious, preparations were made for inflicting the torture. Martin’s eyes seemed about to pop out of his head.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 26-09-2024 10:54:35