I had an appointment with a talent agent today at 3:30. I missed it. The fates came to visit. On Melvin Street. In the body of a tortoise-shell cat.
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The call comes as a voicemail message from Tomson Highway himself. On it, he says
- I don't know if you remember me.
He proceeds to leave a cryptic message about the possibility of an upcoming opportunity, which he is not at liberty to discuss, and would I please return his call at the earliest convenience?
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