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Post by The Country Doctor on Jun 17, 2021 12:33:54 GMT
1…
2…
3!
Jenny Fletcher: And your winner… Jack Hill!
Jack Hill bursts through the curtain into the backstage area of the IIW arena, “Rope Burn Exit” still playing over the building’s speakers. He is slick with sweat, and every time he bends his knee even slightly it pops quietly and gives off a jolt of burning pain. Jack didn’t know whether McCann had managed to find out about his trick knee ahead of time and target it knowingly or whether it was just dumb luck on his part, but at this very moment, he can’t really be bothered to care. It was just a little temporary pain, after all, and a minor cost for having made Ryan McCann eat his careless words and both of Jack’s knees for good measure.
Yes, as Jack walks back to the locker room area, he does so with a pep in his step and a satisfied smile on his face. But…
But it was all too easy, wasn’t it? Ryan McCann had put a promising newcomer - a tag that some had already applied to Jack, much to his amusement - out to pasture not but a month ago. And the way he spoke leading up to the match, treating Jack like he wasn’t even worth the effort necessary to properly formulate any kind of a response to him as a challenger? Well, as Jack sits down in front of his locker and starts to towel himself off, he finds that his mood starts to dampen. While he would always take great pleasure in separating a deserving man’s consciousness from his battered flesh, the entire reason he came to IIW was the promise of a challenge befitting his talents, the promise of treating sick men that no one else could ever hope to cure. Ryan McCann had not fulfilled that promise.
As he starts to pull off his boots, his mind begins to consider the possibilities. Is Ryan McCann simply not the competitor he had claimed? Possible, but the tape Jack had watched showed quite convincingly that he did in fact belong on the IIW roster. Or is this roster simply not the collection of talent that had been pitched to him when IIW was attempting to lure him across the Atlantic? That seems even less likely to Jack. Clearly, what’s needed is more information, something to provide crucial context to the night’s events. What he needs, he decides, is a more proven challenger against whom he can measure himself.
He stops unlacing his boots. He reaches into his locker and pulls out a slightly worn looking piece of paper with the night’s card on it. His eyes scan up and down, eventually settling on a name.
Jack: Yes… yes I do b'lieve he’ll do jus’ fine.
He chuckles to himself as he laces his boots back up. Soon, he will find out exactly what he is made of.
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The IIW cameras fade in on “The Country Doctor” Jack Hill standing next to Michael Morrison, both of them on a small soundstage with a huge IIW logo for a backdrop. Jack is, as usual, sporting his wide, warm smile, while Michael seems slightly less confident than his usual self.
Michael Morrison: Hello, IIW faithful! Michael Morrison here with “The Country Doctor” Jack Hill, who is fresh off of an impressive Mayhem debut-
Jack: Mr. Morrison, afore we git started in earnest, I jus’ wanted t’apologize fer mah behavior las’ time we spoke.
Michael turns to face him, a quizzical expression on his face.
Jack: I’d called y’all out there fer an in’erview, an’ in spite o’mah bes’ attempts at cancellin’, y’all musta crossed yer wires. Ain’t y’all’s fault, really, you showin’ up as I’s trainin’ ‘spectin’ an in’erview. Honestly, though, even ‘thout bein’ in’errupted I was feelin’ mean anyways, on account o’the disrespect Mr. McCann done showed me in the days leadin’ up t’our match. So, I said a few things what maybe I shouldn’ve, implyin’ some threats against yer person, an’ I jus’ want y’all t’know that you ain’t gots t’worry about ol’ Jack Hill. I ain’t got no qualms witcha, y’hear?
Jack flashes Michael a toothy grin, and Michael visibly relaxes.
Michael: Well, uh, thanks, Jack - er, mister… uh, doctor-
Jack reaches out and places a hand on Michael’s shoulder, cutting him off. His smile shrinks considerably, his eyes narrowing as he leans in towards Michael’s face.
Jack: Long’s you be sure t’mind the tenets o’basic courtesy aroun’ me in the future.
Michael immediately tenses back up as Jack leans away, his expression returning to his normal, friendly grin.
Jack: Now, I b’lieve y’all had some questions for me?
Michael takes a moment to shake his head and blink a few times, seeming to mentally reset himself.
Michae: Uh, yes. Umm… You had quite a showing against Ryan McCann, a man some consider to be one of the best pure wrestling talents here in-
Jack: Pure! There’s that word again, rearin’ its ugly head. Yes, Mr. McCann sure is skilled at what he wishes a good fight was. But y’know what I foun’ out plenty quick once I’s in the ring with ‘im? He lacks imagination. He done put hisself in a box what with ‘is skewed ideas ‘bout the world ‘n’ how folks outta conduct themselves within it. Y’know why I think Mr. McCann lashes out s’fiercely against anyone what don’ abide by the rules what define the “purity” he holds s’dear? It’s cause he knows that he ain’t gon’ like where he falls in the peckin’ order ‘thout those rules t’cling to. Luckily fer Mr. McCann, he done received the proper treatment fer such an affliction, courtesy o’The Country Doctor. With any kinda luck, he’ll wake up - whenever that may be - with a fresh perspective what allows him to break outta that box he done built for hisself and start on the path t’wellness. Well, perspective an’ quite a headache, if pas’ experience is any kinda guide. An’ if’ns he comes to an’ still ain’t set quite right? Well, I’m always happy t’repeat the treatmen’ as many times’s necessary.
Jack chuckles for a moment, and Michael takes the opportunity to bring the microphone back to his own mouth.
Michael: So you were disappointed by what you saw from Ryan McCann at Ma-
Jack: Come on, now, Mr. Morrison - ain’t we got better things t’talk about than Ryan McCann? I ‘spect most folks do.
Michael: Uh, well, what do you have to say about what we saw later on, when you attacked an exhausted Scotty Adams after his victory over Jesse James?
Jack looks down for a moment and sucks his teeth before chuckling again.
Jack: Now that’s somethin’ worth talkin’ ‘bout, ain’t it? Why did I lay int’a feller what ain’t never crossed me an’ what could barely git ‘is feet underneath ‘im? Well - strange’s it might sound t’a feller like yerself what leads a soft, quiet life ‘thout much meanin’ - I’s showin’ him his proper respect, an’ askin’ ‘im t’give me the same.
Michael: I’m sorry, this was an act of respect?
Jack: Why yes, Mr. Morrison, I do b’lieve it was. See, unlike most folks in this sick world, I ain’t so preoccupied with mahself that I don’ take the time t’listen t’the folks aroun’ me. An’ fer the pas’ two weeks, all I heard from Mr. Adams when he’s talkin’ t’Mr. James is that he ain’t one t’pay much heed t’simple words’n proclamations of intent. Naw - he demands action if’ns y’want his respect. See, I figured I coulda gone t’Mr. Mitchell an’ begged and pleaded fer him t’put me in the ring with Mr. Adams, got up there on the microphone and called ‘im out’n fronta God’n ever’body - but I wan’ed ‘im t’know that I respect ‘im enough t’actually listen t’what he’s sayin’ - even when it ain’t about me in partic’lar. An’ what better way t’do jus’ that than by puttin’ into practice the very advice he had fer the feller he jus’ beat?
Michael squints for a moment, considering Jack’s words.
Michael: So you’re hoping that attacking Scotty Adams is going to bring you… respect?
Jack: Perspective, Mr. Morrison, 'bove all else. Now, in mah travels I done foun’ mahself in plenty o’dangerous places, all of ‘em jus’ chock full o’folks what wouldn’ bat an eye at puttin’ y’all’s good friend Jack Hill in’n early’n shallow grave. In spite o’this, not only am I still up’n walkin’ about, but I still gots all o’mah nat’ral teeth, if’ns y’can b’lieve it. How’d I pull off such a miracle? By makin’ sure I got the lay o’the land afore I stepped on any toes. Now there’s folks that’ll tell ya if'n y’fin’ yerself in a dangerous place you gots t’fin’ the biggest feller around’n knock ‘em on ‘is ass. Well, in mah experience, ‘at’s a good way t’end up gettin’ yer organs rearranged. Naw. The smart play? You gotsta find the feller what jus’ got beat by the biggest feller an’ see where you measure up t’him. Mr. Adams, much’s he might be loathe t’admit it, ain’t the top dog aroun' here. That’d be the champ-een, Mr. Dangerously. But he is the last feller what got whooped by ‘im - not countin’ Mr. Allen, o’course, but he’s retired last I checked. So, afore I go ‘round pokin’ the wrong bear, I gotsta see where I stand in regards t’Mr. Adams. Only then can I make mah next move with confidence, and begin mah good work in earnest.
Jack’s broad grin slowly fades into a slight, menacing smile as he speaks the last line.
Michael: And what exactly is your goal here in IIW?
Jack snaps back to his genial smile as Michael speaks, but throws up his hands dismissively at the question.
Jack: There’ll be plenty o’time fer that later on, Mr. Morrison. As it is, I have more immediate concerns ahead o’me. See, it ain’t just Mr. Adams what I got mah eye on. There’s also the mysterious Mr. Enlil. Takin’ a bit of a step back, Mr. Dangerously ain’t the only feller what sits atop a mountain ‘round here. Mr. Debonair - or, Debonner, as I’ve heard some folks call ‘im recently - also finds hisself lookin’ down on the rest of us. Sure, he may not be lookin’ down from as high up as Mr. Dangerously, but he still occupies a position what’s equal parts powerful’n precarious, an’ I’d be a right fool if I didn’ consider ‘im when scoutin’ th’upper echelons o’IIW. Now, unlike with Mr. Dangerously, I ain’t lookin’ t’square off with the last feller what fell short against ‘im - that bein’ Mr. Steele. Naw, I’s intrigued by another feller in ‘is orbit: Mr. Enlil. See, I ain’t quite know what t’make o’you, mah friend. Y’come inta IIW with all sorts o’theatrics an’ intrigue, but aside from some sorta strange fascination with the… unique Mr. Zam, y’seem t’spend all yer time’n energy on Mr. Debonair. Anyone what’s got even one good eye aroun’ here can see the potential y’got about ya, so why d’you seem so content t’play second fiddle t’a feller y’met in the nuthouse?
Jack sucks his teeth and shakes his head slowly.
Jack: I can’ pretend t’know what history y’all might have ‘etween ya what’s endeared y’all t’one another, an’ while I could make a fool o’mahself by tryin’ t’guess, it frankly don’ change much as it relates t’you’n me. All I need t’know presently is that you think Mr. Debonair is yer better. Y’might not say it that way, given the choice, but there ain’t no other reason fer a man in this comp’ny with potential like yours t’make an afterthought of hisself like you have. By the same token, Mr. Debonair clearly sees you as a valuable ally, someone he trusts t’come t’his aid should the need arise. So, while I’m waitin’ t’see how Mr. Adams responds t’mah… courteous request, I wen’ ahead’n asked the powers ‘at be if’ns you’n I might have us nice tussle. They’s mighty eager t’git you in the ring. Almost as eager’s I am t’fin’ out jus’ how close the storied summits o’IIW are t’bein’ in mah grasp.
With that, Jack turns to Michael and pats him stiffly on the shoulder, hard enough to knock him off balance for a moment.
Jack: Well, Mr. Morrison, it looks like we done come t’the end of our time together once again. Don’ go makin’ a stranger o’yerself, y’hear?
Jack flashes Michael another toothy grin as he regains his footing before turning back to the camera.
Jack: An’ t’all y’all in IIW watchin’ from a distance, either still tryin’ t’figure out what t’make o’The Country Doctor or slowly fillin’ with dread as you realize exactly what mah presence here means for ya, rest well knowin’ that I’m only here t’cure y’all o’the sickness what’s eatin’ away atcha. I means t’fix ever’ single one of ya, and I can promise y’all that n’matter how many bones hafta break, or how much blood’s got t’be spilled, I ain’t gon’ stop ‘til I done jus' that.
With that, he gives the camera a small nod before walking out of frame as the image fades to black.
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Post by Darius Enlil on Jun 27, 2021 21:19:11 GMT
06/14/21: I’ve been here in England for a few weeks now, part of IIW’s main roster for a little less, but still things haven’t happened for me. As I write this I’m sat in the locker room of The Kindred and thanking whoever needs to hear it, for my good fortune of knowing a man like Tyler Debonair and his family, my family now I guess you could say. Tyler is currently taking on both Zack Steele and John Cavanagh with Rogue by his side in tag action. I really wanted to go out and watch his back, but he told me he’d be ok… I trust him, as we all do.<<I look up as the door to the dressing room opens, a little surprised but forgetting both Casie and Mercedes are also at the arena this evening. I turn back to the monitor where Tyler has just taken Zack Steele down and the two of them are going at it. Mercedes giggles at Casie and looks in my direction, making me - yes me, feel slightly uncomfortable as I pick up my bottle of Lucozade and take a quick swig. Mercedes leaves the room again and Casie sits down beside me, hot cup of trash “on set” coffee as they call it, in hand>> Casie: ”He’s doing okay out there, I’m just worried about Cavanagh. You never know what you’re gonna get with him, Fred was never sure if he was going to hug him or choke him…”
Darius: ”Oh I know, Tyler has spoken of him a few times, the years we were together in Resnick… Thank you, by the way.”
Casie: ”For?”
Darius: ”When I was sent to Resnick I knew nobody, at the hospital my only friend ever was Tyler… And when it came down to it, you guys never shut me out, you always treated me like one of the family and it’s one of the prime reasons I’m here now.”
Casie - ”You know you don’t have to say thank you. You kept Tyler going in there, for almost half a decade! Through everything he’d never have made it out in one piece if not for you… What do you mean he’s the reason you’re here now though?”
Darius: ”Yeah see you don’t know the whole story. But Tyler always told me, if he ever got back into the ring he’d be sure to bring me along with him… It’ll be interesting having my first match, whenever it may come along...”
Casie: ”I think you’ll be surprised if I’m honest, Darius… The card will be available to everyone tomorrow morning and I definitely saw your name going up!”
Darius: ”Wait, what? Are you kidding me? Wow! My opponent?!”
Casie: ”No idea yet, but it’s your first match… Definitely shouldn’t be too tough, woah! Steele is down! Fred has this won… 1..2..3! Not today Cavanagh! Oh you son of a bitch! See what I mean about not knowing what he’s gonna do?”<<Casie and I both shake our heads at the obnoxious post match attempt by John Cavanagh to continue beating down on Tyler after he got the three-count on Zack Steele… We stand and start packing up, getting ready for Tyler to make his way back as the Main Event is signalled, after Casie’s words I’m excited for what’s to come>>
++++ 06/19/21: Things are starting to happen, this week I have my very first match in IIW, but Jesus did it have to be against him?!? I’m pretty sure in our chat last week, Casie had told me my first ever match shouldn’t be difficult, but yet here we are. Well as they say, you can only beat what is put in front of you and so this will be my aim, of course as it should be, but the more I think about it, the less I want next week to come if I’m brutally honest. But that’ll all change when I’m standing face to face with him, as we well know.<<I’m sat on an exercise bike inside the gym of The Courthouse, having just done fifteen miles and knocking back water from a water bottle and thinking about all those extra training hours I’ve been putting in this week, since I found out I was facing Jack Hill “The Country Doctor” as he likes to call himself. A brute of a man who I’ve already witnessed at least once, put someone out who’s had all the qualities to give him a run for his money and now, I’m being afforded that same fate, unless I can really push myself to the limit!
That’s when I hear the noise. I look up and see Casie exiting the office, followed by a cameraman with a huge camera hanging off a rig on his chest and shoulder… I knew there would be a film crew from the girls’ new hit show on Netflix, but didn’t realise they’d be around now. I hear her mention my name as she walks over, camera still rolling but I’m not bothered. She smiles as she sees me and leans against the bike>> Casie: ”Hey Darius, how’s life treating ya?!”
Darius: ”Oh you know, as good as can be expected when you’re fighting some giant ass dude like Jack!”
Casie: ”I thought about our conversation the minute I saw the card for next weeks Mayhem, I couldn’t believe it! I thought they’d ease you in slow and at least give you someone you could perhaps learn from!”
Darius: ”Hey, I’m not going to lie, Casie bear! I was not expecting this guy as my first opponent ever in the ring but what’s our motto? It is, what it is… And if Darius Enlil can’t step into the ring against one of the promotions tougher guys, then I’m not meant for the industry clearly!”<<Casie smiled wide and chuckled, as I climbed off of the exercise bike and grabbed my towel and bottle of water, she followed me over to a bench as I sat down and began to drink again, that smile never wavering>> Casie: ”Well that’s a really commendable way to look at it, in truth… We’ll have to instil that into our students when the time comes. Hey speaking of Darius Enlil, where is your name from? Like where were your parents born or whatever?”
Darius: ”Well that’s something I can’t answer, because I’ve never known. I was found outside a hospital when I was born and flew through the system right up until Resnick. But heh, that isn’t my real name! Well Darius is, at least it’s the name given to me by the group home as a baby, but no Enlil is a name your nephew gave me.”
Casie: ”Wow, I’m really sorry to hear about all of that, it’s so sad… But what do you mean, Tyler gave you the name?”
Darius: ”You mean he hasn’t told you this story? Hah! Okay… So when we were in Resnick I recognised him from like the third day I was in there, from the local Wrestling circuit, but I also saw he was into the same things I was… Stories about the Tablets of Thoth, Alien histories and the story of Enki and Enlil. The closer we grew as friends, he started to help me with workout techniques and exercise regimes and then he began to teach me Wrestling moves… We created a tag-team together which we called Enki and Enlil and we wore masks made from pillow cases, well that was until the hospital found out Tyler had a sharp object.
<<Casie laughs as I regale her with my stories of the time I spent at Resnick with her nephew, our time becoming hospital tag champions behind masks as “Enki and Enlil” and other strange and quite embarrassingly stupid things we did in that place. But as I tell the stories I can feel the cloud enveloping me, the not so cheery feeling as I look ahead to my match with Jack Hill, my first ever Professional Wrestling match. And although five years of training has lead to this and as excited as I am, I can’t help but feel that something within me is trying to pull me backwards…>>
++++ 06/24/21: The time draws nearer, Mayhem is only a few days away and all I’ve been doing in that time is researching, training, working up a sweat and wondering what it might take to put a man like that down. I’ve had some helpful tips in general terms from the others in The Kindred, but in actuality I’m on my own… You can never really get that vibe unless it’s you going against a specific person and that’s the feeling I’m getting now. But, is it worry? Trepidation? Concern? No, I don’t think it is. This feels like excitement, it feels like butterflies, this is pure, unadulterated, exhilarating, ecstasy!<<I’m back at The Courthouse and sat in the middle of the ring, knees up and arms resting on them with my head bowed… There is a storm brewing outside, the rain is hitting the windows of the building as the thunder rumbles in the distance… I look up at the dark building, it’s mid-afternoon but the place is closed today. All the lights are off as some semblance of daylight seeps through the pores of glass high above me>> Darius: ”Not too long ago, what happens in a few days time was only something I could dream of. I’ll be stepping into the ring, in front of thousands of people and showing exactly what I’m bringing to The Kindred and IIW… But it’s not going to be easy, not in the slightest, it’ll be my first ever Wrestling match and needless to say it’ll be my toughest, probably for a while after as well. For you see, I’m not sure if I or The Kindred in general have upset Mr. Mitchell or any of his associates but I seem to have found myself on the opposite end of a match against the man who calls himself “The Country Doctor”, one Jack Hill… And I’m not going to beat around the bush when I say I was kind of hoping for something a little less “rugged” for my debut, but there you go!
But for whatever reason I’m facing this man, be it that I have gotten into somebody’s bad books, or quite simply they had nobody else of any further esteem for me to go up against, the method is still going to be the same! But, I do have one request Doctor Jack, you see, I suffer from something called harm OCD, oh no wait no I don’t… But I think I’ve figured out something about you that you may not already know about yourself. Or perhaps you do! And if not then wow you seem to have the very outline of an outlier of that description, Hill, that much I can tell you. You seem to have this knack for the pain, the hurt, the calm that comes both before and after the deed is done and in all honesty I don’t think we’re too dissimilar you and I.
You remind me of a man I once knew growing up in Shangri-La, they called him Butch… Do you know why they called him Butch? It was short for The Butcher. He was methodical, he was patient and he was meticulous. He was also an absolutely vile waste of space excuse for a human who’s now doing time and I hope he rots, but before I knew all that he taught me everything I know about the art of, what may be deemed as torture. As I say Hill, you and I we are more alike than you may like to admit but come Mayhem, you’ll definitely find out for yourself…”
<<I stretch out my legs and push myself up looking around the empty space. I pace around rubbing my hands together as I let my thoughts escape my lips>> Darius: ”I’ve got to say Jack, you are an imposing figure. You’ve got experience on me, age, height and weight… But what you don’t have is a wealth of catalogued history on which to research and base your knowledge on. You see I’ve been studying up on you Jack and whilst you are a big, hulking guy who’s as methodical as he is nasty, you’re very predictable, whereas you haven’t got a single, solitary clue as to what I am capable of, have you? Oh that’s okay Jack because I can tell you exactly what’s coming your way. I can tell you what’s going to happen and make no mistake I only call the facts as they are.
You see come Mayhem, Jack, you and I are going to lock horns for the first time in IIW but I can predict it most likely won’t be the last… We’re going to battle it out like two Bison or Longhorn and it won’t come to an end until one of us is left incapacitated! And I know that’s just how you like it, Doctor Hill, just how you like it and wouldn’t ask for anything less… Am I right? Of course I am. You see we’re just going to step into that ring and we’re going to inflict pain on one another like no other, so much so that anyone who didn’t know better would think it was some kind of underground gentlemen’s club, fetish… But isn’t an obsession just like a fetish, in a way, Jack? I mean you thrive on it, you lust after it, your entire body goes weak and numb when you don’t get it… As does your brain.
Now one would ask how I know this, considering I’ve yet to step inside a competitive wrestling ring until now, well the answer to that is simple really… Wrestling isn’t the only time you’d get this kind of feeling, this kind of, buzz… I went through a lot before I was in Resnick, why do you think I was sent there? But that side of me no longer exists, I’ve learned to harness my peace and shut away my inner demons, until of course they’re called upon for necessary reasons and you know Jack, I genuinely believe you’re somewhat on that same path. I’ve seen you make light work on Combat, Jack and you did the same against Ryan McCann… Hell, you’ve probably been doing the same for the fifteen years you’ve been on tour! But I’m neither Lance Strong, nor Ryan McCann that much is true and I’m well aware that your, what friend? Protege? Colleague? Student? Lackey? Acheron Revok may be out there somewhat but that’s ok… That’s ok.”
<<I stop walking near a turnbuckle and proceed to climb through the ropes, hopping off of the apron and sitting down on it, as I grab my kit bag. I look up as the rain is now hitting the windows and roof of The Courthouse even harder. Turning to leave I stop as if in thought once more>> Darius: ”This is going to come down to a few things really, Doc. Firstly how bad I feel and whether it’s enough for me to warrant taking my medicine, you see in Resnick they never knew whether I was taking it or not, spoiler, the answer is not! I could always manipulate my way into seeing those pills down the pan and never seeing the light of day again… So whether or not I want to “take two of these” will be down to me on the night! You’ll also have to deal with the likely scenario, Jack, that you may be the one finding it a bitter pill to swallow when we meet in the ring… Have you ever seen the Bad Moon rising, Jack? Because there’s a very good chance you will at Mayhem, you may also feel the need to Psyche Out when we meet too.
You see Jack, there’s a few ways this can go down and every single one of them probably benefits me more, regardless of outcome. The Kindred have a path to take and that path is already laid out, what’s done is done and already come to pass, Doctor Hill and there’s nothing you or I can do about it so we may as well enjoy the ride… You talk about wanting respect and taking it by being literal in ones request, well here’s how you can see about gaining mine…”
<<I stop talking at that very moment and pull on the door handle, allowing myself to walk out into the dark, cold late evening air, the rain lashing down on my body, without a jacket or umbrella. I latch the door, knowing full well both Mercedes and Casie are going to be back soon and take a quick detour through an underpass. And that’s when I see him, standing against the tunnel wall; leg bent upward with his foot against the brickwork. He nods but doesn’t move>> Man: ”How is he? Has he said much lately?”
Darius: ”He’s doing okay, not great but okay. He’s confident and everything is going as it should be…”
Man: ”You’ve done well, Darius. You all have. Don’t worry, we’ve got it from here…”
<<And that was it, he shook my hand, turned and began to walk out from the side of the underpass I’d just come from and was gone for now. I pulled the earphones from my pocket and placed them in my ears, switching my phone to my Spotify playlist and began walking back to the apartment I’d been renting since arriving in England, as the vision fades out…>>
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