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One Hundred Words about The Outer Zone

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DeMilo paced the floor. “I got a business to run here, Murray. What do you mean my truck -”

The mechanic wiped his hands on a rag. “Your truck needs extensive engine work, and that front axle's about to go. I'll have her good as new for five-hundred plats.”

“Five hundred?” The beady little man's eyes almost bugged out of their sockets. “You sure? Isn't there some kind of deal...?”

“You hired me to fix the truck, Mister DeMilo, and you can have the repairs done right or done cheap.”

DeMilo looked at his purse and sighed. “I'll take cheap.”