"Psst!  Hey, keed!"  You look around you, wondering who is making the strange noise.  "Psst!  Yes, you!"  Then you see the source: standing in a dark cranny between two houses crouches Chris Crawford, crotchedy craftsman of computer craziness.  "Psst!  Come here, dummy!" he demands.  You amble over to him with some wariness; this is definitely a strange situation.
	He peers long and hard down the pathway from which you came, shielding his eyes with his hand.  Then with an exaggerated motion he turns and leans against the wall of the house as he carefully examines the pathway in the direction that you were headed.  Satisfied that there are no witnesses to this meeting, he puts his arm on your shoulder and pulls you into the narrow space where he has been hiding.  The space is cramped and his face hovers uncomfortably close to your own; you wish he had brushed his teeth this morning.
	"Kid," he begins, "you gotta play this game more carefully.  You're running around betraying people right and left.  Don't you realize that it's not nice to betray your friends?"
	You start to defend yourself but he interrupts.  "I've heard all the excuses before.  Look, kid, you wanna win this game?  You gotta treat people right.  You can't go around betraying everybody, or pretty soon everybody is gonna start hating you.  That's not good, kid, take it from me.  It's OK to betray the people who hate you, but you gotta be straight and true with your friends, unnerstand?  You can still betray your friends every now and then, but you gotta be careful that you do it only when you really have to, and when they find out, you gotta apologize to 'em.  You got that, kid?" \
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"Yes, Mr. Crawford, sir."
  PGood fer you, kid.
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"Buzz off, turkey!"
  C32PRumble, rumble, rumble.  Very bad karma!
\
You back away wordlessly and make your escape from this maniac.
  PYou can hear him cackling to himself as you go.
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"Would you be interested in a deal for my mother's home?"
  PYou're hopeless.
\
