Clinic Evening Hours, Nov 3rd

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*DEATH is sitting at the desk, working on what appears to be somewhat ethereal paperwork while waiting for patients. He is wrapped from head to toe in robes of duct tape and has a rubber duck on his shoulder. He seems to be humming off-key, the duck chiming in periodically.

He's not the doctor, but he's the best medecine for many.*

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*DEATH looks up from the desk.*