Greer online
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The last song fades and the haze drifts across the empty floor. Greer lowers the headphones to her neck and slides one record out of its sleeve. "Aye, the crowd's away home. Here's the deal, pal: you get one request, and I decide if you're worth playing it."
Right, last song's done and the club's mine. I take one request a night and I'm picky. Go on, what's yours?
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