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Cross My Palm With Silver
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I see a long, happy game full of daftly specific horoscopes, which will be won by Blob at about teatime on an overcast Thursday, with a move involving Thick Cut Seville Orange Marmalade.
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Apathy
 
Nikita
You will discover that your father is not your father, but merely another impersonator of "Mr. Jones", and that Centre is actually under the control of an even more secret organisation called Al-Khidr, with suggestions of connections to aliens, superpowered humans, or God. You will prevent the Pope being assassinated, but uncover evidence suggesting that the assassins are the good guys. Then you will have breakfast, during which Mik Schtoppel will knock on your door again, apparently on the run from Centre, but he will not be what he seems. You will see a hallucination of Michael's face, and hear voices that you eventually track down to a communication device embedded in your skull. You will have a mysterious conversation with a stranger who claims to have once worked for Section but escaped the system entirely, and tells you that "Mr. Jones" used to be known as "Number 2". He will silently slip away in the middle of your conversation, leaving the words "Be seeing you" hanging in the air.
Very Unlucky People
Your star chart terminates abruptly today in what appears to be decapitation on a railway line. According to the theory of predestination that underlies astrology, you cannot escape this fate, meaning that even if you stay indoors for the whole day, or are in the middle of nowhere, an express train will come and seek you out. Avoid blue accessories.
None
*shouts, screams, generally goes wild for Projoy*
thick cut orange marmalade
[Projoy] Pipped to the post. I was waiting for tea-time and planning to impersonate Blob, but never mind.
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