Barboni suspiciously looked at her, and with even greater suspicion - in the bedraggled "Plymouth" release in 1962. - Well, - he muttered. - Have no choice in your jungle. Quickly took us out of here! - Please, sir! - She invited, opening the rear door. We sat down, and immediately I was wearing a seat belt. But Barboni has never had the pleasure to drive the car on Reydin, poor and neglected because of it. But to no avail. The old woman drove off, both on the rally, the tires squealed, throwing sand and gravel, we took off on Route 98 and sped like us chasing the whole clan Lavatini those with the intention to nail in place. Right hand she reached for his radio and kerf local station, and even at full capacity.
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