Barry and I go back. His uncle, at one point, murdered his father. Barry comes to me as a young man, young. He, myself, and our warthog-lookin friend saw it through, ultimately. We sang several songs, jaunty numbers. In my years I’ve never had a wilder time.
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That warthog-looking friend has a name, sir, and that name is Rahm.
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I don’t doubt it. Always seemed like a hard-knock Chicago boy, he did.
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