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... e. He stood there like a statue, unshaken, unreadable. His long coat hung all the way down to his boots, the cracked leather catching the flickering light from the buzzing neon outside. Shadows danced across his face, but his presence was still as cold and steady as a winter storm.

No one spoke.

The silence was heavy.

Then, finally, a voice cracked through it like someone stepping on glass.

"Wait..." Ringo said, squinting. "Is that, ? No way. That’s Dud. The Dud. ...

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Don’t get sold, live even better!

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