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Special Agent Dale Cooper - 11:17 AM | Текст песни

Diane, 11:17 A.M. I’m standing on the spot where Laura Palmer’s body washed ashore. The large remains of a Douglas Fir lies on the beach here; a victim of a storm or some other calamity, some fifty years past. The Sheriff has introduced me to the owner of the lumber mill, Josie Packard. A visitor from the far east and a woman of uncommon beauty.

The ownership of the mill passed into her hands a year and a half ago when her husband died in a boating accident. She and the Sheriff have been seeing eachother. Something I suspected from their body language that the Sheriff subsequently confirmed. These appear to be random events, unrelated at this time, so, naturally, they bear watching.

Oh, Diane, never drink coffee that has been anywhere near a fish.

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