I like to think that when Adam Buczek woke on on the 17th of March, 2014, what went through his mind was not whether or not the coffee pot was on; I like to think that while Adam's wife was primping for her day, he began to have a horrible feeling in his gut. Not that queasy feeling Adam was accustomed to from his binders down at the pub on Contractor's monies owed. I like to . . .
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