You weave through old board games and discarded soda bottles. You turn the headlights on to see a bit better; you're hoping to find something that gives a clue to the age and gender of the owner of this room. It might give you an idea of how to approach them.
Then you turn the corner of an overdue library book, and the lights of the car shine on something that makes the person's identity clear. Well, clearer. You stop, and stare at the mammoth....
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