"I TELL YOU THIS DAY, YOU FINE FOLK OF THE OUTER WOODS! YOU CARRY THE POX OF WILD HOUNDS! YOU ARE THE SCOURGE OF VICHY!" Old hag, yells at the barista - the coffee shop is focused on napkins and potato salad. RACCOON lords move their barracks East of Winchester and the strange-rook is now set on the grounds of Balmoral, tethered to tired phantoms of that weary night in VEGAS.
Gold and silver, still compressed for the sprint, will hear the gunshot soon - Dr. Copper will signal the split, and those with dogs and cats? - a genuine stew is to come. Savory, with carrots and onion - biscuits and coffee to go, with all the napkins you want ... especially if offered by the rat-courtier of ROOSEVELT.
For more prophecy: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Yo5kW8pk1P0-_LMeGiw_mz2DLsWVLqYN/view