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The sun had reached it's zenith, the figure cast no shadow upon the ground. A tumblweed scittered across in front of his feet, and the dust whipped around his boots. He was a mean man, and this was a mean time. He carried himself like a mean man should and looked like a mean man would. If his penchance for wearing womens underwear ever got out, this image would surely be ruined. But, fortunately for him, it hadn't.
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