Must I renovate Collins Hall once more?  This is getting somewhat tiring.

In 1967, Collins Hall had been populated by incontinent dogs and rodents.  The filth was astonishing.  In 1897, I have found the home to be a haven for gypsies, and the filth is not astonishing.  It is intolerable.  Yet, this is the hand I’ve been dealt, and I have firm optimism that, with proper training, applied psychology, and the hypnotic trance of the nosferatu, I might be able to persuade them to behave in a manner that might closely resemble that of mammals.

To my strategic luck, they also seem to associate with Quentin Collins, a brash braggart.  This situation is ripe… as is the state of the upholstery.



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