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Post by Star Stormz on Aug 6, 2022 22:00:03 GMT -5
PWS: APEX Riot Tuesday, August 16, 2022 Vancouver, BC - Rogers Arena
Main Event Singles Match Non-Title Devon Ryder vs. Mike Hawk
Roleplay deadline is Sunday, August 14 at 11:59 pm est. 1 rp each, 300 words minimum, 5000 words maximum[\center]
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Post by Mike Hawk on Aug 15, 2022 22:27:35 GMT -5
Act 1: MISTEEEEEEERRRRR… CANADA! …CANADA!
*We open in a quaint suburban house in the suburbs of Toronto. Specifically that of “The Canadian Hero” Devon Ryder. Literally, actually his house. The living room has some fine decor, but instead of the Unbreakable one himself, sitting in his living room chair we see “The President of Pro Wrestling” himself, Mike Hawk. He’s in blue jeans and a black t-shirt with a brown-on-brown American flag on it, with white words on top that say “America is Poopy”. He sighs into his hand as he looks slightly perturbed at something. As he notices the camera, he perks up.*
“Devon”: Oh, hi! I’m Devon Ryder.
*Another version of Hawk walks in from an adjoining door, in a long, curly black wig. He speaks.*
“Desiree”: And I’m a black woman.
*He’s not making any attempt to change his voice or disguise the fact that he’s clearly a white man. Devon sighs again as Desiree walks up to him. He looks at her. She smiles.*
“Desiree”: What’s wrong, Mia Moore?
“Devon”: Well, I just… I don’t think I say the word Canada enough times in my latest promo!
“Desiree”: Oh, I’m sure it’s not THAT bad.
*Devon dejectedly presents a bunch of pieces of paper.*
“Devon”: I just checked over the script, I only say it 56 times!
“Desiree”: Oh! Well, that’s not… THAT bad…
“Devon”: Really? Not that bad? It’s only in the double digits, Desi! How else will I get my message through of “America sucks and is bad” if I don’t bring up how much better Canada is every 1.6 words!?
“Desiree”: Don’t be upset, Devon, Rider of Devons. I’m a strong independent black woman who moved to Canada to be with you, so I’ll be here to help you through your problems every step of the way!
“Devon”: Oh by the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that, are you here legally?
“Desiree”: Oh, haha, um… hey, what about those Americans, eh?
“Devon”: God, I fucking hate them so much!
*Devon smacks the arms of his chair and Desiree wipes sweat from her brow with a “Whew!”*
“Devon”: But I’ll deal with them later. Tonight I have a match with Mike Hawk, the much more better looking and bigger-dicked between the two of us!
“Desiree”: Si, but you’re the better wrestler!
“Devon”: Wait, did you just say ‘si’?
“Desiree”: Because Devon Ryder is… Unbreakable!
*The opening drum beats and riff of Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” start playing, as the two lovers sit there awkwardly, looking at each other, then at the camera, as the song continues. Soon, the camera fades to black.*
Act 2: America? I barely know’a!
*We open on Niagara Falls, one of Canada’s premier landmarks. A massive waterfall, with Ontario on one side and New York on the other. Large pathways surround the falls, and there are many attractions all around, it’s clear it’s a large tourist destination. And that’s made extra clear by the numerous people taking pictures of the massive amount of water, and many others walking around with souvenirs. We come in, specifically, on the Canadian side of the falls, and on one specific Canadian; Mike Hawk. He’s leaning on a railing, overlooking the falls, in jeans and a grey t-shirt, as well as black and white running shoes. He’s also wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. He turns to face the camera, which is facing the falls, and smirks. His shirt says “Second. Place.” on it, and his hat says “This is not a hat”. He motions back to the massive watery wonder with his head as he starts to speak.*
Mike: Beautiful, isn’t it? It’s one of the many wonderful landmarks of this great country. And that… mediocre country.
*He gestures vaguely towards the United Statesside of the falls as he says this, chuckling a little bit.*
Mike: See that? That’s America. Otherwise known as “worse Canada”. And boy do some people absolutely LOVE to point that out! In particular, the douchenozzle known as Devondulous X. Ryder. In fact, Devon, if you spent half as much time actually talking about your opponents as you do talking about America’s atrocities, maybe you’d have a net positive win/loss record.
*His mouth contorts into a smirk again as he starts walking, knocking someone’s fries out of his hands as he does so.*
Mike: Like, I know you’re fighting for a cause, man, but it shouldn’t define you! Like I agree, I LOVE Canada. We’re a great country! But you know what ELSE I love? Blueberry muffins. They’re objectively the greatest pastry, and anyone who disagrees can suck my dick. But I don’t go around parroting the horrors of bran muffins, or how bran is objectively the worst flavour. I’d be justifiably taken by the police and questioned if I started doing that. And America is your bran muffin, Ryder. You refuse to let that go.You want them to fix their problems, but Canada has problems too!
*He trips someone onto someone else, the first person yelping as his hot coffee goes flying into the face of a third person, who clutches their face and runs off screaming. The second person falls to the ground, blaming the first for falling. He continues.*
Mike: Sure, the last guy in charge of America was an incompetent buffoon with an ego problem who couldn’t run a meter, let alone a country, but the premier of Ontario swallowed a bee during a press conference, so we’re not exactly in the lead in terms of competent leaders either. And I understand. You don’t want to fix America, you want to make America fix themselves, like if Jigsaw became a geography teacher, but newsflash: They won’t. Americans are patriotic first and everything else second. Their country is perfect to them, and trying to fix that is like trying to get the Muffin Man to stop living on Drury lane. He’s been living there for 200 years, for Christ’s sake!
*The camera pans out a bit to show some of the attractions around the falls, as Hawk continues rattling off his points.*
Mike: And, look… that “unbreakable” schtick? It gets old fast. As soon as I ram you into the mat and pin you for a 3-count, you won’t be able to answer a 10-count. Or a… 6-and-a-half count? That’s halfway between the two. I don’t know where I was going with this. But look, Dev N. Ryder, the point is, I’m better than you. And you’ll need to learn to accept that. I was second in the championship qualifier battle royal. And you? You didn’t even place. You weren’t in it, because management didn’t think you were enough of a presence for it. They looked at you and went “Nah, we’re good.”
*He stops in his tracks, chuckling to himself.*
Mike: And maybe that’s because you’re not even GOOD enough to challenge for a main title, or maybe it’s because the title you DO have, you butchered beyond recognition! Made it a shell of its former self, created the Stephen Hawking of title belts! A title that’s the worst thing to have Canada’s name attached to it since Jonathan Sanders.
*Hawk keeps walking, taking someone’s cotton candy and throwing it over the railing, never to be seen again. He walks and talks, getting a little closer to the huge waterfall, but as the roar of the falls gets more intense, he speaks a bit louder each time.*
Mike: And that’s not even the worst part. You wanna know what the worst part IS, Devon? You could be something so much better than you are! You’re like a propaganda movie; you’re so focused on being preachy that you don’t care about being good! Now, you’re fine in the ring, I won’t dispute that, you got that “Unbreakable” nickname for a reason, but nobody and nothying's as good as Mike Hawk. Look…
*He pulls out a piece of paper, with a crudely-drawn line graph on it, with “Amount of Broccoli in Soup” on one axis, and “Enjoyment of Soup” on the other. As the first one goes up, the second goes down.*
Mike: …Okay, I grabbed the wrong chart, but the point remains!
*He goes to put the chart away in his back pocket, but it blows away and is caught in the fantastic pressure of the falls.*
Mike: Whoops! Aw man, that took me 6 entire minutes to make! …Um… hey, there’s another thing Canada has that’s not perfect! Accidental pollution of our famous landmarks! So, in summary, Devon, you’re bad, I’m good, case fucking closed.
*As he walks, he turns, walking to the other side of the large pathway, and the roar of the falls gets less intense. As he does that, however, he sees Devon Ryder and Desiree De La Roche walking on the same path. Hawk and Ryder lock eyes.*
Devon: Mike?
Mike: …Ohhhh, this is awkward.
Devon: We should have scheduled this better.
*They start quickly walking away in opposite directions.*
Devon: Don’t make eye contact, don’t make eye contact!
Mike: Fuck, fuck, fuck…
*Soon they’re far enough from each other that Hawk can’t see Ryder anymore. He turns to his camera crew.*
Mike: Well, that was awkward. Hey, who wants to go ride Maid of the Mist!?
Cameraman: Aw, hell yeah!
Mike: Alright! Let’s go!
*The camera slowly fades to black as Hawk runs towards the entrance to the under-the-falls ride.*
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Post by Devon Ryder on Aug 15, 2022 22:59:51 GMT -5
Act One: Little Boxes
Am I doing enough?
This is the thought that lingers in the dark. The intrusive, anxious visitor that snakes its way into my mind in this quiet, vulnerable moment. I have no defence against it… and it leaves the door open for more.
What does it truly mean… to be remarkable?
This is the question that follows on its heels, ringing in my ears like the aftermath of a fireworks display as I turn it over and over in my mind. I do not have an answer. My throat begins to tighten as this fact becomes apparent; a familiar, inky lump of dread and apprehension congealing in my chest as I begin to spiral in the emptiness.
Does any of this MATTER?
Why am I DOING anything?!
These are the fears that next make themselves known. They are a perfect pair; effective, withering, feeding on my self-esteem like ravenous hyenas. It does not take them long to tear it all apart. My breath begins to come in ragged gasps, hands balling into fists against my knees as the spiral vortex pulls me further.
Is all this struggle pointless?
This is the thought that pulls me under; the riptide in the whirlpool that catches hold of my fragile psyche and drowns me in the darkness. One final thought occurs as I am forced, headlong, into the void.
Will I ever be… remembered?
Tick…tick…tick…
Toronto, ON Canada April 25, 2006 3:00PM
Then
“You’re not special, Devon.”
These were the words that broke my heart. The first gunshot that ever shattered me to bits, an annihilation of the soul from which I am STILL picking up pieces. I wish it had been someone else who said them. Perhaps then, they might not have stung as much. Perhaps then, I might have found some comeback. As it happened, I had nothing. I stood there, as a child, head down and eyes shut against the tears I could feel burning in my throat. I dared not ever let him see me cry; he would not get violent, but I wanted so badly to make him proud, and my tears would never do that.
“I don’t know why else you seem to think that you don’t need to apply yourself, son. I understand you want to do something FUN for a living, you see me working from home most days and you think that you can do it too, but you CAN'T. It's just not realistic."
Why not? What happened to "I don't care WHAT you do, as long as you're the best at it"?
These are the words I wish I'd had back then, but it has taken me far too long to think of them. The benefit of hindsight always makes these conversations easier. I wonder, in the odd detachment from this moment that I feel now, if the pandemic will have changed his mind. If he is even capable of sufficient introspection to re-evaluate his views. I suspect that he is not.
“You're smarter than this, Devon. I know you are, YOU know you are, but you think that makes you different. Better. You think, BECAUSE you're smart, the rules don't apply to you. That you can just coast and not put in the work, but I promise that's not true. You need AMBITION, son. Without it, you won't get anywhere."
This is the part that galls me most, even with so many years beyond it. To claim that I have no ambition, to ignore how hard I've WORKED… I wish that I could tell him now. To RELIVE this conversation in real time, to use the knowledge that I’ve gained throughout the years to finally SHOW him that I’m…
“Devon?”
This is the voice that snaps me out of it. The angelic chorus that slices like a sunbeam through the choking, anxious shadows and bathes my soul in light.
Desiree.
My angel. My guiding light. The beacon that will draw me back to shore when these seas become too stormy to survive. I focus on her voice, inhale, and reach out with my consciousness.
Tick…tick…tick…
Eyes open.
“Devon? Baby? Are you okay, amor?”
This is the voice which greets me as I come back to myself. O razão do meu viver is sitting on the bed, just beside my own position, with one hand on my forehead and the other clutching one of mine. She smiles as I turn to face her - a flood of warmth that fills my soul - and I can feel her fingers slowly caress along my hairline. She can tell that I’ve been under.
“Desi…”
I give in to the feelings. I break, and let her see me weep. She understands immediately, and I find nothing but warmth and comfort in her arms.
“Why am I doing all of this, Desiree? I couldn’t defeat Violet, our rematch was a fluke… What if THIS is all anyone remembers of me? What if I go down in history as a glorified paper champion?”
She locks her eyes on mine. Unending, murky pools of wonder and romance to engulf me. In an instant, I am buoyant - held aloft on wings of love, supported in the darkness by my shining, radiant angel. Her voice cuts through the sorrow, sending shivers down my spine.
“Devon, stop it. This is just your depression talking, and you KNOW that it’s a liar. I’ll always believe in you, okay? I know you won’t stop fighting - and as long as you keep fighting, how could you ever be forgotten?”
“But am I… am I special, Desi? Am I truly remarkable, or will I only ever be average? Nobody remembers the ordinary, and I’ve worked SO hard for SO long to make myself the best that I can be… what if that’s not good enough?”
Her eyes harden now. The Goddess is enraged. I can feel the thunderclouds roiling on Olympus, preparing to unleash their divine payload as she makes her fury known.
“Devon Michael Ryder, stop it!”
A beat. She lets those words hang in the silence, before her hand caresses through my hair again.
“You are anything but ordinary, okay? You don’t have to defend yourself to me, I am not your father. I will always think you’re special, because I KNOW what you can do.”
A smile. She cracks the ice around my heart and the lightning bolt revivifies me. The Canadian Hero is reborn, unbroken, because I still have mon coeur.
“You’re my superhero, Devon. And I love you, okay?”
These are the words that make ME smile, too. That reignite the fire in my mind which reminds me who I am. I can never fall, with Desi by my side. I will never break while she is here to mend me. I may have been shattered once, but I am done being demolished by the weight of expectations. From this moment forward… the only opinion that will shape me is that of Devon Ryder. And I already KNOW what HE believes.
“Thank you, Desiree. I know. And I will always love you too.”
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Act Two: Homecoming
*We fade in on a sprawling, majestic shot of Niagara Falls - specifically, the Horseshoe Falls, on the Canadian side - in the middle of a hot, August afternoon. Sunlight glistens off the surface of the water - not the falls themselves, but Lake Erie and the Maid of the Mist pond below - and tourists bustle about the space, taking selfies by the falls, eating ice cream and generally enjoying their existence. We pan around this scene for a few moments - beginning with the Falls themselves, then zooming out to get a larger picture of the visitors around the guardrail - and finally moving down the boardwalk past the crowds, to a couple who have found a spot alone amongst the hubbub. The pair have their backs to us, and a wonderful view of Horseshoe Falls, and the background audio abruptly cuts as the camera’s mic switches to ‘noise-cancellation’ mode, to better isolate the man’s familiar voice.*
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
*There is a brief pause, now, as the figure turns around to face us. It is, as expected, the PWS: Apex “Canadian Domination” champion, and resident self-styled “Canadian Hero”, “Unbreakable” Devon Ryder. The woman to his left - our right - is clearly Desiree de La Roche, but she does not turn to face the camera, giving him a peck on the cheek and keeping her focus on the Falls. Devon smirks towards the camera, clad in a white “Canada” t-shirt and a pair of plain blue jeans, and continues speaking as the camera moves in closer.*
“I suspect that there are many of you expecting some sort of rant from me just now - that I’ll launch into an eloquent and well-supported tirade about the history of Niagara Falls, disparage the United States for their pitiful display as compared to the vast majesty of the Canadian section… but I’m not going to do that. Niagara Falls is magnificent. Wondrous. A natural marvel of the planet Earth, and a testament to sheer, irrepressible, awe-inspiring POWER nature has over our world. I cannot claim ownership of this. Niagara Falls does not belong to me - it belongs to ALL of us. Canadians, Americans, even tourists from abroad - every human being who finds enjoyment in this spectacle should be equally entitled to access it. And as for disparaging the differences? Well, THOSE are the American Falls just over my right shoulder, there…”
*Devon turns and motions with one arm, indicating the far-off but still clearly-visible American and Bridal Veil Falls across the pond. They are certainly smaller than the Horseshoe Falls behind him, but not unimpressive in their own right.*
“And perhaps they’re not quite as impressive as THIS majestic masterpiece…”
*He now turns to motion to the Horseshoe Falls, framed perfectly between himself and Desiree.*
“But to blame the United States for a geological happenstance resulting from an arbitrary border placement? I may be arrogant, but I am NOT a fool. I hold no ill-will against the COUNTRY of America - indeed, I’ll be the first one to acknowledge it’s home to some of the most beautiful landscapes on display in the Western world. MY issue is with the systems of America, and the selfish, vested interests who have perverted the IDEALS of that country into a horror show of corruption, division and oppression. I will not rejoice if the ‘Respect for Marriage Act’ is voted down within the Senate. I will not be PLEASED that it has given me more ‘material’ for my ‘gimmick’; I’ll be HEARTBROKEN. I will mourn, right alongside all of you!”
*A brief pause, and Devon takes a moment to collect himself, bringing his emotions back in check.*
“But today is not a day to focus on the negatives. Today is a momentous day in the history of PWS: Apex; today, the Canadian Hero has come home!”
*Ryder pauses again, lips curling into a prideful and arrogant grin as he makes his way back towards Desiree, sliding one arm around her waist as she turns around to meet him. He leans in to kiss her softly.*
“Ready to go, meu amor?”
*Desiree flushes a light shade and nods, linking arms with Devon as the couple begin to move away from the Falls.*
“Today, PWS: Apex has begun its first-ever Canadian tour. We will not be in Niagara - not at the moment, anyway - but instead our initial foray will take us to Vancouver. It is an equally-gorgeous section of this country, beset with its OWN natural wonder in the form of the majestic Rocky Mountains… and yet, it is also an example of one of Canada’s most grievous sins.”
*Devon pauses now, and his grin has vanished, instead replaced by a stern and solemn expression.*
“Vancouver is a sprawling city; among the most highly-populated areas in Canada. It is a hotbed of technology and innovation, a HAVEN for movie hopefuls and shooting locations so prolifically-chosen that it has been nicknamed ‘Hollywood North’. But Vancouver has a dark side. Vancouver has a problem… and that problem is Fentanyl.”
*A beat. A brief pause, and the Unbreakable One’s features become no less serious.*
“You see, I’m not certain how many Americans know this, but Canada is in the midst of an opioid crisis at the moment. It’s been driven by a variety of factors - over-prescription of harmful and addictive opioids being chief among them, along with contamination of the recreational drug supply as well - but laying blame will not produce solutions. We are working TIRELESSLY to combat this epidemic - including initiatives like ‘Project Angel’, which empowers law enforcement in BC to connect struggling individuals with proper medical treatment facilities for harm reduction - but it remains a grievous issue in this country, only worsened by the lockdowns and social distancing measures implemented during the pandemic. I am ashamed of this side of my nation, and that we are not doing MORE to help break down social stigmas around drug use to encourage those who are experiencing harm to seek treatment without judgment, but I felt it was important to acknowledge it. To provide a fair, unbiased look into the realities of Canadian life. Because we are NOT perfect, we DO still face great hardships… but the difference is in how we HANDLE these issues.”
“Do you think, for a MOMENT, that law enforcement could be trusted to help struggling opioid users in the U.S.? That they are equipped or even trained to solve problems without violence? Your society is built on the notion that people who are struggling DESERVE to be where they are. The ‘American Dream’ is predicated on the idea that they should help themselves, and that it is some sort of ‘moral failing’ if they have been unable to BREAK this cycle on their own. The poor, the downtrodden and the outcast are expected to ‘pull themselves up by their bootstraps’, ignoring ANY socioeconomic or political factors that may be at play to cause their situation to begin with. THAT is the difference between the Canadian opioid crisis and the AMERICAN opioid crisis, and I will not claim that one is ‘better’ than the other, or downplay the severity or NECESSITY of taking action no matter which side of the border you happen to inhabit. BOTH of these epidemics are TRAGIC… but only ONE of the affected nations seems to have a clear plan in place at the federal level to deal with the issue. And all of this is without even TOUCHING on health-care, or the fact that those affected can seek treatment free of charge in our more civilized society… but I WILL just mention THIS. When you pass an individual who is living on the streets, do you stop to help them? What are the thoughts that go through your mind? Do you call them ‘junkies’? ‘Addicts’? Do you sneer and scoff and keep on walking, not even making eye-contact to apologize for your indifference? That is an American mindset… although, unfortunately, not EXCLUSIVELY so.”
“My father is the same way. If you can believe it, given my OWN leanings, he is also a staunch Conservative. My father is the most American Canadian I have ever met, a Libertarian until the end, who believes that everyone on Earth is born with equal opportunity, and those who don’t succeed financially are victims only of their own lack of what he prized - ‘ambition’.”
*Devon pauses, clearly emotional, but keeping it together.*
“He wanted me to be a lawyer.”
*A beat.*
“For a while, I believed that’s what I wanted as well. So I put aside this dream; I went to school, I did the work, I played the role for as long as I could stomach… but I always felt like there was something missing. As if I was DENYING some core facet of myself. I felt like I was going through the motions, an actor in a play about what my life could’ve been. Perhaps I could have found success this way… but it would not have been sustainable. I would not have been fulfilled. I would have been a shell - a puppet living out a fantasy, because I’ve been told it’s how I ‘should’ be acting. Not unlike Mike Hawk.”
*Ryder pauses, glaring into the camera, as a smirk slowly blossoms again.*
“Mike, I KNOW why you act the way you do. You’re a consummate performer, and on some level I respect it. You know exactly what you need to do to get this audience on your side. But it’s not really TRUE, is it, Mike? What you show us is not the man you ARE; at least, I would certainly HOPE that it is not.”
*Another pause.*
“First of all, do these fans know that you’re Canadian? That you hail from the Great, White North, just as I do? I would not be surprised if they were unaware. You’ve certainly taken pains to HIDE your Canadian identity from your ‘adoring’ public; adopting the mantle of ‘President of Professional Wrestling’, the pomp and ceremony familiar to the viewers of the godawful political farce that is America…and yet, you don’t claim to BE political, do you?”
*A pause, and Ryder’s smirk becomes a grin.*
“If we take you at your word, you’d have us believe that you have no INTEREST in politics. That you just want to wrestle, unburdened by the ‘stress’ of a system where ‘both sides are equally incompetent’. But if we dig DEEPER, we find that’s not really true EITHER, is it? One cannot ever TRULY be completely ‘apolitical’, because abstaining from politics is, in itself, a political statement. By refusing to engage, you are tacitly endorsing the status quo. Your apathy to save yourself from stress is actively hindering the efforts of those who wish to CHANGE the system, to FIGHT these engines of oppression and make this world BETTER for all who live in it! To say ‘I am not political’ is to invalidate all of these efforts, to provide a false equivalency that things are either ‘not THAT bad’ or that they are SO irreconcilably dystopian that any effort to COMBAT them is ultimately futile! The decision not to ‘care about politics’ is one that only a person in a position of PRIVILEGE can possibly make, and it absolves them of ever needing to QUESTION that privilege or challenge their own views. And I don’t blame you for this, Mike; at least, not directly. I do not believe that you’re a bad-faith actor when you make these sorts of claims…but I DO believe that you’re a coward.”
*Another pause, and Ryder’s smirk vanishes, glaring a determined glare into the camera as he moves further away from the roaring falls.*
“I will not give up my fight because it is DIFFICULT, Mike. I will not be dissuaded from seeking CHANGE because the system is CORRUPT. At the end of the day, you’re a white man who is dating a white woman, you can AFFORD to divorce yourself from politics…but me? Forgive me for suggesting, I think I’m a little closer to the front lines on this one.”
*Desiree steps forward and Devon wraps an arm around her.*
“But I will not begrudge you your cowardice, Michael. If you don’t want to fight what you believe to be a losing battle, then by all means, stay at home and keep your head down. But if you’re afraid to fight a LOSING BATTLE…then I wonder why you agreed to step in the ring with ME. If you are AFRAID to start a fight you cannot win…then you NEVER should have stepped to Devon Ryder. Because I am the CANADIAN! HERO! Mike, and fighting is in my blood.”
*A beat, and Ryder glares into the camera.*
“I look forward to seeing what’s in YOURS.”
*With that, Devon is finished, and the opening riff of “American Woman” begins to play him off. He grins and pivots on his heel, Desiree following with him, as they begin to walk off into the distance…until a familiar figure passes on the right.
“...Mike?”
“Devon?!”
*A beat, and then we fade.*
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