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...Just as his dog quietly gets up, stretches nonchalantly, * pads over to the blood-stained shears that are leaning against a wall, takes one of the handles in his mouth, and drags them away towards the open front door, glancing back * sheepishly at COLM as he goes.
COLM smiles, puts his cigarette out, goes over to him, gives him a big loving pat and a rub... and takes the shears away from him and heads upstairs. *