[Realistically, it's the latter, but she doesn't want to admit that. Not to Angela. She's got this weird, stupid need for Angela to forget what a chaotic mess she is, and to make Angela think she's got some sort of plan. So, thinking quickly (or as quickly as the grogginess of insomnia will allow):]
Yeah, there's a guy I'm pretty sure is working with the poachers. Downtown, near the strip club.
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Yeah, there's a guy I'm pretty sure is working with the poachers. Downtown, near the strip club.