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All of a sudden, Lou plucks the fat cigar from his mouth. You feel the glare of his eyes, narrowed in a scowl of suspicion.
Lou reaches out a massive, tattooed trunk of a muscled arm (there is a clank of gold chain, like some galleon hauling anchor) as he stops you, holds you in place by the shoulder, staring and frowning at you with mounting menace:
-Hell- wait a minute - I know you...