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December 10, 2002
An auburn glow radiated through patches of cloud patterned over the hills. Exactly what Ralph had been waiting for: the clouds; the glow; the ash tumbling through the sky with the smoke. While thousands of miles away, scapegoats were being made of the very people who had brought the Boss to his stature. Ralph returned to the mirror, adjusted his tie, and studied medals carefully hung on his uniform. It was perfect; the auburn glow rising with the ash and smoke left behind by the destruction of this desert oasis at his command. Perfect for suicide, Ralph thought, perfectly beautiful.