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Smoke: Karaoke Cowboys

But it got worse at night, when the karaoke outfit would move in at about 5.30pm, headed by a tough, beaten broad called Sandy, who at three in the morning looked like a goddess despite her bad teeth and worse breath, nondescript t-shirts, too-tight jeans covering an ass begging to be released and a hairstyle straight out of an eighties punk-rock magazine.

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