[id: medium shot of the other side of the room where sylvia-as-selena in her peasant dress stands in front of some wooden barrel beer kegs standing in one corner against a brick wall under a pair of windows that look out on this fine summer afternoon. “g’day, milady,” the unnaturally pale, white haired young woman says to her offscreen fellow time traveler. “how may i be of service? wouldst like me to rub thy feet?” /end id]

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