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Profane Intervention

by Shawn Vincent Wilson Ed Rosenberg almost didn’t notice when the boy in the suit and tie walked into the Gaming House. It was Saturday afternoon, after all, busy and loud. Darrell and Terry were gawking at the painted miniatures in the display case while Steve unpacked a box of game manuals to be shelved. Two other regulars were in the computer room, playing Counterstrike against a team far away in North Carolina, and a few walk-in customers were browsing the boardgame rack as if— gasp! —they might actually buy something. The superhero gamers were setting up Champions in the back room, and you could even hear the Old Guys in the basement, fighting the Battle of Midway in miniature, complete with historically accurate yelling and swearing. Ed himself was going through the cash register, wondering for the dozenth time if he should have finished business school before, y’know, starting a business . But when the tenth-grader with the suit, neat shoulder-length hair, and attaché cas

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