Last night, after a month of strange events, something extraordinary happened. A bunch of guys, mostly bearded, rose from the dead. They threw things, struck them with weapons that exploded into splinters, and slid along in the dirt. They were quirky and had superstitious mannerisms. They spat and ran, chewed and slammed into walls. Hordes of screaming beings surrounded them, egging them on. It has taken them 95 years to rise into the clouds above a green monster.
And they all wore red sox.
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