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It is the following night. The Abbot is sitting at the keyboard, he types a few words and then erases them again. He does this three times. Finally he types:


Good Sir,

I am most embarrassed.

I seem to recall sending you an email last night after I had had just a little too much brandy.

I take it for its medicinal properties, of course.

Anyway I fear I was not as lucid as may have been desirable.

For that I apologise.

Yours sincerely,

Abbot Costello.

PS: When do you think we will get the money?

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Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging:
And whosoever is deceived thereby is not wise.

- Proverbs 20:1.

He then goes and sits on the side of his bed to replace the bandages on his foot.


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