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South

“You’re wondering,” says Bailey, “why the door’s closed, the cast is here, the writers are here, I’m here, but the directors aren’t. The guy you don’t know is Jeff.”

Jeff nods. His t-shirt reads abacabb–True Fatality!

“Usually, Jeff’s a mole,” says Bailey. “Studios hire him to leak what they want leaked: rumors, red herrings, building buzz. He works for us now. What you need to know, and keep to yourselves, is that as soon as we leave this room our set is on his filthy little camera. All day. Every day.”

Pause.

“Hey,” says South, “I remember that game!”

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