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#thirty-eight snub
tv-moments · 10 months
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Breaking Bad
Season 4, “Thirty-Eight Snub”
Director: Michelle MacLaren
DoP: Michael Slovis
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spockvarietyhour · 1 year
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My boy is doing fine.
My Boy:
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sidleyparkhermit · 2 years
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Hank in “Thirty-Eight Snub” getting the minerals with his grabber tool vs. Marion in “Nippy” getting her groceries with the grabber tool… is this anything
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jimmymcgill · 2 years
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Breaking Bad 4.02 "Thirty-Eight Snub" Better Call Saul 6.08 "Point and Shoot"
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likeafantasy · 1 year
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BREAKING BAD REWATCH — 4.02 THIRTY-EIGHT SNUB ❝I didn't want any of this to happen. Everything I did, I did out of loyalty to my partner. And then later, of course, purely out of self defense. I hope you can appreciate that.❞
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gilligould · 1 year
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Breaking Bad 4.02 “Thirty-Eight Snub”
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singingninja4 · 2 years
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as I've been watching s6 of bcs I've noticed the music cues are resembling the music cues from brba. to me it seems that as the timelines converge, the music is getting more and more similar. this prompted me to do a deep dive into music transcription and analysis between the two shows, which I'll post as I complete them. (side note: @jmcgools sent me an interview with dave porter which confirmed my theory!!!! interview is linked here x)
a few general comments before going into the first cue analysis....doing a full stylistic analysis entails analyzing SHMRG (Sound, Harmony, Melody, Rhythm, Growth). I am focusing mainly on the melodic and rhythmic elements because dave porter stays fairly consistent in the sound, harmonic, and growth elements throughout both shows:
the sound/timbre used is typically guitars, various percussion, and other electronic sounds; the sound/texture is typically sparse, which fits dave's intention to keep the music subservient to the narrative.
the harmony is also sparse in both shows for the same reasons, and is either centered in a minor tonality or no tonality at all.
and with growth, dave masterfully follows the narrative, and so each cue is somewhat unique in that aspect.
the first comparison I've completed is between the credits from brba 4x02: thirty-eight snub x (the credits hit when jesse is dissociating in his house alone with his stereo music blasting behind him) and the scene in bcs 6x04: hit and run x is when kim confronts the people tailing her
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the music cue in the credits scene is short-lived, but has distinct melodic content that is recognizable in hit and run. the pattern starts with A, C, Db, C, then develops in measure 4-5 into A, C, Db, F, E. the developed melodic contour is repeated almost exactly in hit and run in measure 7-8. only the rhythm changes slightly
narratively, both scenes have an undercurrent of anxiety and dread. the minor 2nd motions between the C and Db and the F and E both accomplish that (think the jaws theme). the hit and run cue increases the intensity with the brief ostinato (repeating pattern in the bass line), continuing the minor 2nd motif between the C and Db. this minor 2nd motif is even further developed in the last 4 measures of the cue with the descending G, F#, F and then it ends with a tritone between A and Eb (one of the most unstable intervals) leaving the viewer unsettled.
These are both very short cues, but they have a lot packed into them! As with all of the music in brba and bcs, the creators use it sparingly, but when it is used it makes it that much more impactful.  
This posted ended up being waaaaaay longer than I intended 😅 so thanks for reading this far! Let me know what you think or if you have any interpretations yourself. and feel free to drop suggestions for other cues for me to analyze! I’m hunting down cues to compare in my rewatches, but I know for sure that I won’t catch all of them lol
bcs/brba music analysis 1/??
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hangingoffence · 1 year
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breaking bad and 75?
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Gdzie jest biały węgorz ? (Zejście) - Cypis
Breaking bad 04x02 "Thirty-eight snub"
Funny spotify wrapped ask game!!!
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abqotd · 1 year
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utaheldritchteapot · 2 months
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Ultimate Weapon, Chapter 1
Ultimate Weapon, by utaheldritchteapot Chapter 1: Hit the Floor
Kira studied the movements of the bouncers as she waited in line outside the nightclub. First, they made you take off your jacket. Then, they’d do a pat check of your body for any notable bulges, whilst making you hold your phone and wallet outside of your clothes. Kira had a sheathed katana under her knee-length yellow raincoat, along with a small pistol, a P-32, in her jeans pockets, and an S&W 442 thirty-eight five-shot snub in her coat pocket, so she couldn’t let that happen. The lightweight bulletproof vest she’d thrown over her tank top, to which the katana’s sheath was attached to like a shoulder-holstered handgun, wouldn’t help her cover either.
Kira turned to the wall to hide her hands from the nearby cameras and took a fake passport out of her pocket. She counted out two fifties from a roll of fake dollar bills, folded them, and slid them into the passport, held to the page by a paper clip. She gripped it tightly in her pocket and waited patiently to get to the front.
*****
‘ID, please.’ the bouncer said, a large Caucasian man, quite overweight, with a shaved head and stubble. One of his front teeth was gold and glittered when he opened his mouth. He was dressed in a black ill-fitting suit, with a tie, and a walkie-talkie on his belt. He spoke, with a deep, gruff voice that gave the impression of a rejected drill sergeant.
Kira could rely on her face to get herself ID’d. It was a good way of giving bribes covertly. She handed over the passport, and the bouncer opened it to the marked page. He stared at it for a few moments, hesitating. Kira reached for a pocket. She could always force her way in.
Abruptly, his radio began to speak in its distorted, static-filled manner, and the bouncer put it to his ear. Kira quickly relaxed her hand and let it drop back to her side.
‘Come again?’ he said into it. His voice was slightly shaky now, not gruff like he had been before.
‘Just take the money.’ a woman’s voice replied, and the bouncer began to shake. He was scared. Quickly, he pulled out the two fifties and pocketed them, then passed Kira her fake passport back.
‘It all looks good.’ he said with a forced smile ‘Go on inside, and have a nice night!’
Kira gave him a toothy grin, and walked through the front entrance, sliding a ten-dollar bill to the ticket-taker.
She crossed through the last set of doors and entered the club. The music was deafeningly loud, nothing could be heard besides it. The people at the bar had to shout with their faces inches from the bartender’s ear to be heard. Kira appreciated this; it meant that even if she resorted to gunfire, she wouldn’t have to worry about anyone noticing.
She pulled the bill of her Marlins cap low over her face, and looked downwards to hide her face from any cameras. Not that they’d be much help in here, with the constant flashing lights. The lights were bright pink. It was packed shoulder-to-shoulder with people about Kira’s age, although significantly more underdressed. Their spaghetti-strapped crop tops and short shorts made quite the contrast to Kira, who had her face hidden behind a veil of messy black hair.
Alright, Kira thought to herself, time to find the one other person in this place wearing a suit.
*****
Kira spotted her two targets over by the speakers, one Ultimate Weapon, who wore a suit with high heels and a pencil skirt, with her brown hair in a ponytail, and her bodyguard, who wore a sparkly red cocktail dress that left little to the imagination. The Ultimate Weapon’s eyes were fully red, like she’d suffered a brain haemorrhage, and the blood was pooling behind them.
Kira considered where the bodyguard could be carrying a gun, but assumed she must have at least a small one taped to her inner thigh, like a femme fatale in a James Bond movie. Any gun that small wouldn’t pierce Kira’s vest, so she didn’t have to be overly stealthy.
Kira began her approach. A ray from the strobe light reflected off the slither of the blade, catching the bodyguard in the eye, which widened with fright.
*****
‘Hit the floor!’ yelled the bodyguard, and she dived to cover the Ultimate Weapon with her body. Kira drew her katana and raised the blade behind her head like a baseball bat.
The beat dropped on the song that was playing. Kira swung the sword with all her strength and buried it halfway into the bodyguard’s throat. She’d stuck it in the jugular vein, but the steel blade stopped most of the blood from leaking out. Instead, it flooded into her trachea, which was also sliced open, and down into her lungs. The bodyguard began to choke on the blood, it flowed out of her mouth and nose, covering her face until she resembled the victim of a car crash, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. The bodyguard’s knees buckled under her weight, leaving her hanging from the blade that impaled her.
The red-eyed woman delivered a powerful shove to the small of their bodyguards' back, throwing them into the face of Kira, who staggered backwards. The target ducked down and took off into the crowd, moving in a serpentine pattern, pushing aside drunk bystanders as she did so. Kira put the sole of one of her jungle boots on the chest of the bodyguard and pushed her off the blade. It didn’t matter if she’d died or not; the blade had stuck part way into her spine, and she wouldn’t be able to move or even call for help before it was too late. If hypoxia didn’t get her, the massive blood loss would.
The target was more clever than Kira had thought. The way she moved meant Kira couldn’t get a clear shot of her without risking collateral damage. Kira wasn’t worried about her getting away, as she had studied the layout a few nights ago, in her civilian clothes. She knew where her prey was running to because it certainly wasn’t one of the two clearly marked exits.
Kira wiped the blood from her katana with the sleeve of her raincoat and returned it to the sheath. She strode casually through the crowd in pursuit of her prey, catching sight of her descending the stairs toward the women’s bathroom. She took out both her pistols, holding one in each hand, and quickly descended the stairs.
She hid herself in the right corner of the landing, next to the door. She slowly pushed the door open with her outstretched foot, attempting to bait the prey into shooting in case she’d found herself a gun. When no gunshots came, Kira kicked the door open and rushed inside. The window was closed, and there was no one there. To Kira’s left, there were four stalls, and each one had a locked door. Kira quickly scanned the bottoms of each. Either they were empty, or this was deliberate and someone was crouching on top of one of the toilets.
Kira returned her P-32 to her coat pocket, but didn’t button it shut, and took her revolver in her left hand. She shot twice through the first door, once dead centre and another slightly higher. No response.
She proceeded to the second door and repeated the process. For the third, she only shot once. She’d shot as many times as she needed to. She stepped in front of the fourth and final door. The lock clicked open.
The red-eyed woman kicked the door as hard as she could. Kira dodged out of the way but allowed herself to fall to the ground as if it had connected. Kira let go of the revolver, flicking her fingers so it slid against the dirty tiles of the floor. Now on the floor, she feigned a dazed state. She watched closely as her prey dived out of the stall, going for the gun.
The red-eyed woman picked up the revolver and pointed it at Kira’s head. She pulled the trigger, and the gun went click. She had played directly into Kira’s hand. She’d known that gun was empty when she’d dropped it.
Whilst the red-eyed woman stood there, paralysed by shock, Kira drew her second pistol from her pocket.
‘Gotcha.’ Kira said and pulled the trigger. The bullet pierced her skull right between her two red eyes, stopping just short of blowing out the back of her head.
The red-eyed woman’s dead body collapsed to the ground in a heap. With the shocked expression still stuck on her face, the entrance wound leaked a small pool of blood onto the floor.
Kira stood up and made the sign of the cross with the middle and index finger of her left hand, like a child’s finger gun, and began to speak solemnly.
‘For as much as it has pleased the almighty god to take unto themself the soul of our sister, here departed; we therefore commit their body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.’ Kira soliloquised, and brought herself to one knee next to the body.
She pulled the corpse’s shirt open, and patted the jacket for any signs of weaponry. There was nothing. Kira then took out a flip phone and called the first number on the list.
‘Hey Nike, it’s done. She wasn’t carrying a piece or wearing a vest. What’s that about?’ Kira said into the phone.
‘I suppose she thought she was safe here. Where are you?’ said a voice on the other end.
‘In the bathroom. Bring the van round the back. We can get the body out through the window.’
‘How about that bodyguard?’
‘I killed her over by the speakers, but I don’t think they know she’s dead yet. Guess the people are too coked up in here to care.’
‘Alright, I’m bringing the van around now. Be ready.’
‘Okay, bye.’ Kira hung up the phone, then took out a rubber doorstop. It came in handy more often than one might expect, for when you wanted a door locked from the inside somewhere you shouldn’t be. She tucked it under the base of the door and kicked in deep with the side of her jungle boot. She then went over to the body and dragged it close to the window.
The window was the sort they often have in basements, just a thin strip that swings open, barely wide enough for an average person to squeeze through. It led out onto a small yard behind the nightclub, used for loading kegs of beer and other heavy freight. The only security for that yard was a padlock, easily bypassed by someone with bolt cutters. Sure enough, within a few minutes, Kira’s friend Nike had opened up the gate, and had driven a plain white van with a stolen license plate inside.
The passenger side door opened, but no one got out.
‘Going to make me do this by myself?’ Kira joked to no one in particular.
Kira flipped the latch off the window and pushed it open. She then hooked her arms under that of the red-eyed woman and dragged her close to the window. Kira had spent enough of the past few years lugging heavy loads about to be able to move her with relative ease. She slumped the body up against the wall, then climbed up onto the ledge to squeeze through the gap. She lay there on her belly and crawled forward until she could reach down and grab the body by the shoulders, dragging it up along the wall and out into the yard. She then stood up and dragged it over to the back of the van, opening up the doors and throwing the body onto the floor. She walked over to the passenger's side door and got in.
Sitting in the driver’s seat was another girl, somewhat older than Kira. She was wearing a white pullover hoodie, light blue jeans, and white Nike Air Max shoes, and had a pair of pure white angel wings growing out of her back. She kept them folded behind her back, and laid on them. It was uncomfortable, but it was necessary to stay hidden. Her hair was bleach white, but just as dishevelled as Kira’s. This was Nike.
*****
‘Who’d I just kill?’ Kira asked, relaxing in her seat. Her heart was still pounding from adrenaline.
‘Her UW designation is ‘Red Eye’, but she was going by Naomi Enjouvin. She doesn’t show up on cameras, motion sensors, or any other kind of electronic recording, tracking, or detection device. Fortunately, you have eyes, so it was probably a breeze.’ Nike replied.
‘Lame power for an Ultimate Weapon. What did she do to deserve death?’
‘Not much, she’s mostly just a spy with a gimmick. But she’s a UW, working for the CIA. For you, at least, that should be reason enough. It’s more than enough for me.’
‘You know, that bodyguard she was with didn’t pull a gun or anything. Considering what she was wearing, I doubt she had a vest. I thought she was gonna pull a twenty-five from her garter belt or something. But no. She just shielded her and took the blow.’
‘Well, I suppose I could have been wrong.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘We aren’t supposed to have relationships with people. But if she wasn’t a bodyguard, it’s possible she was Red Eye’s girlfriend. I know for a fact she wasn’t a Weapon.’
‘Is it possible they are making more of them? Ones you wouldn’t recognise?’
‘No. They can’t do that.’
‘So what you're saying is I killed an innocent woman?’ Kira said, turning to face Nike.
‘You had good reason to be wary of her. I just happened to be wrong.’
‘Oh my god.’ Kira replied, covering her face with her hand.
‘Don’t think too hard about it. You’ve killed plenty of people. She was just collateral damage. You’ll get over it.’
‘How can you be so-’ Kira uncovered her face in preparation to hurl an insult, but Nike interrupted her midway through speaking. She recognised exactly where this was going.
‘Kira, this is the fourth time we’ve had this conversation. You always get over it. There’s Smirnoff in the glove compartment.’
Kira went quiet after that. She knew she couldn’t win an argument against Nike. Everything she said was true; Kira had killed people she hadn’t meant to in the past, and it took a while, but in the end, she got over each one.
As Nike backed out of the yard, Kira reached over to the police frequency scanner on the dashboard and flipped it on.
‘Yeah, Lucky’s, the Irish place. One of the bartenders said they saw a suspicious white van parked in the yard, with someone in a yellow coat taking something. They don’t know what it was, but they think they were probably stealing kegs.’ said a woman’s voice.
‘Alright. I’ll send the nearest patrol car over to check it out.’ said another.
The two sat in silence until Nike stopped the van at a red light.
Nike turned to Kira and said ‘When we get back to the motel, I want you to take the van and dump it somewhere. I’ll take care of the body.’
*****
Nike pulled the van into the parking lot of the Sleep EZ motel. She put her hand on the door handle but stopped herself before opening it.
‘Kira, you’d probably better clean yourself up before dumping the van. You’re covered in blood.’ Nike said, gesturing to Kira’s coat.
This was true. Blood had splattered all over Kira when she hacked into the girlfriend’s throat with her katana. It was on her face, in her hair and all over her coat. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, she could even taste it in her mouth.
‘Alright, I’ll wash myself with the hose. You want help with the body?’ Kira replied.
‘That’d be great, thank you.’ said Nike, giving a small smile.
They opened the back of the van, and Kira picked up the body by the shoulders, hooking her arms under the arms. Nike took the legs. This way, if any blood leaked out of the bullet wound in Red Eye’s head, it would spill on Kira’s raincoat. They lifted it and took it up the stairs. Once they reached their front door, Nike dropped the legs and unlocked the front door of the room. Kira dragged it inside and dumped the body on the bathroom floor.
Kira turned to leave, but Nike stopped her.
‘Kira, one last thing.’ she said ‘Can I borrow your katana?’
Wordlessly, Kira unbuckled the sheath from her belt and carefully passed it to Nike, who took it from her.
‘Car keys.’ Kira said, and Nike took them out of her pocket and tossed them to her.
In the parking lot, Kira found the hose meant for those cleaning the vomit and other filth off the ground and hosed herself down with it, washing the blood off of her face and coat, and pouring a little into mouth to wash the taste out. She then left to drive the van into the nearest river.
*****
Back in the motel bathroom, Nike took out a pair of long scissors and cut off all of Red Eye’s clothes, tossing them into a trash bag. She then picked up the body in a bridal carry and dumped it into the plastic bathtub, which was lined with heavy-duty trash bags she’d placed there earlier that day. She took out the katana and began to hack into Red Eye’s body with it like it was an axe. Nike had surprising upper body strength for a woman of her size, and within half an hour, the body lay in pieces.
Nike then took a Gillette blade from a pack and slashed her wrist open longways. Blood poured out, turning from red to colourless in mid-air. Within moments, the room stunk of chemicals. Once the remains of Red Eye were covered in liquid, Nike wrapped a belt around her forearm to cut off the blood flow. She then wiped the remaining blood away with a towel and took out a stapler. She stapled the wound closed, using eight in the process.
In the bathtub, the colourless liquid was turning red. The blood had become an equivalent weight of itself in acid. Blood is dense, so there was more than enough to cover the body. Slowly, the remains began to dissolve. Nike left the room, closing the door behind her. It’d be a while before she could take the trash bags out and let what was left run down the drain. The solids she’d gather up and put down the food waste disposal in the kitchen.
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mylifeaselis21 · 7 months
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Breaking Bad 4x02 - Thirty-Eight Snub - Σελίδα 3
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spockvarietyhour · 1 year
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Hey Jesse, how are we processing those two murders in 24hrs?
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sidleyparkhermit · 2 years
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The harsh rhythmic thump somewhere outside the frame that won’t fucking stop in Thirty-Eight Snub vs. the harsh rhythmic thump somewhere outside the frame that won’t fucking stop in Lantern
The sound in Thirty-Eight Snub is actually the inconsequential action of some junkie throwing a tennis ball, but it sounds like hell, it’s incredibly obtrusive, it’s the beating of Gale Boetticher’s hideous heart against Jesse’s psyche. Meanwhile the sound in Lantern doesn’t sound like much of anything, it’s this weird thump that’s confusing but not really ominous, and it takes ages for the camera to reveal that it is, in fact, the sound of Chuck McGill taking his own life
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jimmymcgill · 2 years
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It wasn't Mike who called and said "Go Home Walter" in Thirty-Eight Snub, it was Tyrus. Just listen to the voice.
the bluray subtitles said mike that's why i put it like that, i too thought it wasn't mike and was surprised by it but idk����🏻‍♀️
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truthorconsequencesrp · 9 months
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WESLEY BRANDT
CHARACTER NAME: Wesley Brandt FACECLAIM: Chris Hemsworth AGE: Thirty-eight GENDER/PRONOUNS: Cis man, he/him BIRTHDAY/ZODIAC: February 6th, 1985 // Aquarius OCCUPATION: Real Estate Agent HOW LONG HAVE THEY BEEN IN T OR C: One year NEIGHBORHOOD: Vista la Verde SONG THAT SUITS THEM: Glass Jaw by chokecherry
TRIGGER WARNINGS: Parental neglect, death
ABOUT:
Wesley was raised with his parents expecting everything from him, despite not giving him much back in terms of emotional support. They were strict, overbearing, and extremely critical. So it's no surprise that Wes grew up with a complex to hide his insecurities and secret need for approval.
He's hyper-sensitive to how others perceive him and internally panics if an interaction isn't going well, or he can sense that the other person doesn't like him. But of course, he hides it. Sometimes he even acts more aloof and like he doesn't care, in order to not be snubbed first.
It wasn't until his father died last year and still didn't have a good word to say to Wes that he realized he shouldn't have been living his life for his unpleasable parents this whole time. He packed his things, got in his car, and started the drive from California to who-knows-where in order to get away from everything. It was supposed to be a short trip, but he ended up staying in Truth or Consequences when he fell in love with the charm of the town and got a breath of fresh air.
He hasn't really made any contact with friends or family back in California this entire time. He's being avoidant, and he knows it, but it's easier to just pretend like he has a new life now with no old responsibilities... or a fiancé he left behind.
Currently, he just got his New Mexico real estate license and is extremely proud of it, even though there's not much real estate to go around in a town of only 6,000. He hopes to pick up another job soon, but isn't sure where to look.
(NIKO, 27, MST, THEY/THEM)
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gilligould · 2 years
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michelle maclaren doing 6.10, michelle maclaren who is known for directing killer shootouts, michelle maclaren of 4 days out, i.f.t., one minute, abiquiu, thirty-eight snub, shotgun, salud, madrigal, gliding over all, buried, and to’hajiilee fame and acclaim,
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