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| - All-American Kid, Jeffery Baines Armbruster. Used Arthur Wexler to look into Mephisto the Mentalist. "Jeffery Baines Armbruster. All-American Kid. Huxton High School. Wheaton College. Strategic Bureau of Intelligence. God, it seemed like I’d never be rid of that little punk, and now he’s back and pissing in my beer again…” Files appeared on the two monitors, including three photographs, one of a handsome young man that looked to be from the 1930s, another of a handsome man in his prime, and the third of a rather shrunken and bitter looking old man. “Ew,” Townsend flinched. “So much for clean living. Oh. Nasty car accident, back in ’83, huh? Killed your wife, and one of your grand-kids. Tough on you, Jeffy. So, you’re eighty-plus, retired, and a boring old fart who nobody wants to listen to
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| - All-American Kid, Jeffery Baines Armbruster. Used Arthur Wexler to look into Mephisto the Mentalist. "Jeffery Baines Armbruster. All-American Kid. Huxton High School. Wheaton College. Strategic Bureau of Intelligence. God, it seemed like I’d never be rid of that little punk, and now he’s back and pissing in my beer again…” Files appeared on the two monitors, including three photographs, one of a handsome young man that looked to be from the 1930s, another of a handsome man in his prime, and the third of a rather shrunken and bitter looking old man. “Ew,” Townsend flinched. “So much for clean living. Oh. Nasty car accident, back in ’83, huh? Killed your wife, and one of your grand-kids. Tough on you, Jeffy. So, you’re eighty-plus, retired, and a boring old fart who nobody wants to listen to anymore, huh? So, you decided to dig up old Mephisto, and remind everyone that you used to be a real hotshot, and handled real live supervillains, huh? Wait a minute… 1983…” an evil grin spread across Townsend’s face. “Heh, heh, heh… Okay, yer gonna really need to chow down those Wheaties to get out of THIS one, Jeffy…”
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