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[The voice that comes through the phone sounds tired, more than anything. It's mid-toned and has the slightest drawl to it, as well as a distinct Canadian accent for anyone who might recognize that kind of thing.]
Well, this is a hell of a thing.
[A brief pause, and there's the sound of him shifting a little bit, then the plunk of a bag hitting a table.]
So...I'm Ches. Ches Fields. 37 years old. Farmer by trade. I hail from British Columbia, Canada, if anyone knows where that is. Live there with my little brother and a bunch of friends who help me run the farm.
[Another pause, then a soft laugh.]
Who all's here? Tell me a little about yourselves? And, well, if anyone from The Commune is here, drop me a line.
Well, this is a hell of a thing.
[A brief pause, and there's the sound of him shifting a little bit, then the plunk of a bag hitting a table.]
So...I'm Ches. Ches Fields. 37 years old. Farmer by trade. I hail from British Columbia, Canada, if anyone knows where that is. Live there with my little brother and a bunch of friends who help me run the farm.
[Another pause, then a soft laugh.]
Who all's here? Tell me a little about yourselves? And, well, if anyone from The Commune is here, drop me a line.