Occasionally they strayed through the perimeter electronics, too, and Brown and his people had to track them down and chase them away with prods they'd jerry-rigged from tinglers and pipes.
O that majestick Garb, 'tis strangely taking, / That scornful Look, and Eyes that strike all dead / That stand beneath them.
Lucky they got them in the divvy vans quick as they did. You hear about that? Had to bring in divvy vans far as bloody Albury to take them off. Had them in lock-ups all over the place.
We had a nice bottle of Bordeaux last night.
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