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6. Boots.

"Thank you for visiting. I hope we can serve you again." The last sound was Jose's as he ushered a client out of Racher Art, a client who had successfully spent Jose's three-hour period inking a tummy tattoo to cover up post–surgery stretch marks.

Three hours, sitting for so long that the man's loins rattle as he twists left and right. "Tiring, really tiring." No matter how much he grumbles, Jose is devoted to his job.

The man grabbed a soft drink can from the table in the main room, sat down, and gulped down the contents to quench his thirst, while the boss was utterly carefree as he lifted a pair of legs that rested against the wall while playing with his cell phone and enjoying a lollipop.

"I'm hungry. What should we eat this afternoon?" Jose leaned back, a pair of legs also straight on the table surface. "What to order? Is it pizza again? I heard a new flavor has been launched."

"NO!"

Jose was stunned when Denis spoke up. "What, no? I thought you had no intention of talking. What
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