Mr. Cameron donated $134.63 when we were short at RAKS hardware store.
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I'll probably just end up working at a porn store the rest of my life.
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What's it like working in a dirty-video store?
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You work at a porn store, surrounded by d*ldos, and you're a virgin?
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Why you work at a porn store downtown?
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No, I wouldn't mind. he talked to people in the store.
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ANGLE ON THE THUGS Who have now spotted a man and his young son. They are both loaded down with goods from the store, and the thugs stop them. They take the things from them, and start to walk off.
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EXT. WORKOUT AREA – SAME NIGHT ESTABLISHING SHOT OF MASTER KWAN'S SCHOOL, A RAMSHACKLE BUILDING IN A BURNED OUT ROW OF STORES.
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In times of famine, Judge Bao would feed the people with his own stores.
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No need to see me off, Sol, go tend to the store Good bye!
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Seven, I'm the 11th child of my family And I was thinking, if you and I should open a store together, we'll call it 7-11 Uncle Han, who is that guy?
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- The houses, the stores, they are all empty.
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“Why, Captain,” Dillard said in his hoarse whisper, “did you and the boys finally get back?” “Not the boys,” Call said. “Just me. What happened to the saloon?” He could see that he had been right—the general store was still there, but the Dry Bean was gone.
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Call took the opportunity to have a blacksmith completely rebuild the buggy. The blacksmith had lots of wagons to work on and took three days to get around to the buggy, but he let Call store the coffin in his back room, since it was attracting attention.
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He found the old trapper, Hugh Auld, sitting in front of the dry goods store. It was a cloudy day and a cool wind blew. The wind had a wintry feel, though it had been hot the day before. Call knew they didn’t have long before winter, and his men were poorly equipped.
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“I don’t know how he’ll do,” the undertaker said. “If he weren’t a human you could smoke him, like a ham.” “I’ll try salt and charcoal,” Call said.When the coffin was ready, Call bought a fine bandana to cover Gus’s face with. Dr. Mobley brought in the leg he had removed, wrapped in some burlap and soaked in formaldehyde to cover the smell. A bartender and the blacksmith helped pack the charcoal in. Call felt very awkward, though everyone was relaxed and cheerful. Once Gus was well covered, they filled the coffin to the top with salt and nailed it shut. Call gave the extra salt to the drunk at the hardware store to compensate him a little for the use of his wagon. They carried the coffin around and put it in the doctor’s harness shed on top of two empty barrels.
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“The lick’s about six miles north,” the hardware-store man said. “You can find it by the game trails.” Sure enough, several antelope were at the salt lick, and he saw the tracks of buffalo and elk. He worked up a sweat scooping the salt into the wagon.
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“Dern, she ain’t very grateful,” he said. “Struck at me like a snake, and I just fed her. Typical female. My wife done exactly the same a hunnert times. Buried her in Missouri, where it’s considerable warmer.” Call found the carpenter and ordered a coffin. Then he borrowed a wagon and team and a big scoop shovel from a drunken man at the hardware store. It struck him that the citizenry of Miles City seemed to drink liquor day and night.
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“People have their whimsies,” he said. “Your friend was a crazy patient. I imagine we’d have quarreled if he’d lived.” “I imagine,” Call said. “But I intend to honor the wish.” “We’ll pack him in charcoal and salt,” the doctor said. “It’ll take a barrel or two. Luckily there’s a good salt lick not far from here.” “I may need to leave him all winter,” Call said. “Is there a place I could store him?” “My harness shed would do fine,” the doctor said. “It’s well ventilated, and he’ll keep better in the cool. Do you want his other leg?” “Well, where is it?” Call asked, startled.
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Augustus saw that she wanted to stay. If asked that morning if such a thing could occur, he would have said it was impossible. Lorena had clung to him since the rescue. But being at Clara’s, even for so short a space, had changed her. She had refused to go to Ogallala, and was frightened of the thought of going into a store, but she wasn’t frightened of Clara.
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When she came down from washing her face, she heard talk from the back and stopped dead on the stairs, for there was no doubt who was talking. The chord of memory that had been weakly struck by the sight of the horsemen resounded through her suddenly like an organ note. No sound in the world could have made her happier, for she heard the voice of Augustus McCrae, a voice like no other. He sounded exactly as he always had—hearing his voice so unexpectedly after sixteen years caused her eyes to fill. The sound took the years away. She stood on the stairs in momentary agitation, uncertain for a second as to when it was, or where she was, so much did it remind her of other times when Augustus would show up unexpectedly, and she, in her little room over the store, would hear him talking to her parents. Only now he was talking to her girls. Clara regretted not changing blouses—Gus had always appreciated her appearance. She walked on down the stairs and looked out the kitchen window. Sure enough, Gus was standing there, in front of his horse, talking to Betsey and Sally. Woodrow Call sat beside him, still mounted, and beside Call, on a bay horse, was a young blond woman wearing men’s clothes. A good-looking boy on a brown mare was the last of the group.Clara noted that Gus had already charmed the girls—July Johnson would be lucky to get another bowl of soup out of them as long as Gus was around.
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It was the squeal that caught Call’s attention. After loading the heavy oak water barrel, he and Augustus had stepped back into the store a minute. Augustus was contemplating buying a lighter pistol to replace the big Colt he carried, but he decided against it. He carried out some of the things he had bought for Lorena, and Call took a sack of flour. They heard the horse squeal while they were still in the store, and came out to see Dixon quirting Newt, as Dish Boggett’s mare turned round and round. Two cowboys lay on the ground, one of them Dish.
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“Why, he won’t let us fill it with candy,” Jimmy Rainey said. Nonetheless, feeling bolder and more experienced, they went back in the store and bought two more sacks.
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“I wish the Captain would fill the wagon with it,” Ben Rainey said. The opportunity existed, for Augustus was just driving up to the dry-goods store in the wagon, and the Captain rode beside him on the Hell Bitch.
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The town abounded in saloons, of course, but at first the boys were too spooked to go in one. Probably they would be looked at, because of their age, and anyway they didn’t have funds for drinking. What little they had must be saved for whores—at least that was their intention. But the fourth or fifth time they passed the big general store their intentions wavered, and they all slipped in for a look at the merchandise. They stared at the guns: buffalo rifles and pistols with long blue barrels, and far beyond their means. All they came out with was a sack of horehound candy. Since it was the first candy any of them had had in months, it tasted wonderful. They sat down in the shade and promptly ate the whole sack.
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