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"WHITES could be here" he thought, "I've never been in this neighborhood before. There could be WHITES anywhere." The cool wind felt good against his bare chest. "I HATE WHITES" he thought. Wish of a Songbird reverberated his entire car, making it pulsate even as the $9 tea circulated through his fragile thin veins and washed away his (unfounded) fear of the elderly after dark. "With a corp, you can say anything you want" he said to himself, out loud.