“Attention. Attencion, por favor!” Gavin clapped his hands loudly from the center of the impeccably decorated Angel Orensanz Center. It looked just as stunning as it had yesterday when Mrs. Petey had taken the nose-dive that currently had her with one sparkling pink combat boot propped on a chair, sipping the alcohol-free witches’ brew that was the signature cocktail of tonight’s event. The only change from yesterday’s initial unveiling of his superlative soiree swag was the addition of the…
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