I was on a recon mission with Renee for a certain caffeinated beverage from a certain multinational corporation known for its ability to make well-adjusted and addiction-free citizens behave like deranged junkies who'd rob their grandma for green tea frappuccino change. And for being ABSOLUTELY F'ING EVERYWHERE. And for medical coverage for part-time employees.
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6745/1943/320/DSCN3206.jpg)
Renee saw the N laying alone and somewhat sadly on the concrete.
Renee: 'Grab it!'
I ran to the N, grabbed it, and started to stuff the N into my bag, feeling a heightened (and unwarranted) sense of secrecy and urgency, when Renee came up with the next great idea of the day: Take Benise dancer-ish photos of ourselves and N.
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6745/1943/200/DSCN3207.jpg)
Later that day we noticed that FIRE had lost its E. We looked for it but couldn't find the E so we decided to go back inside and get to work.
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6745/1943/200/DSCN3208.0.jpg)
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6745/1943/320/DSCN3211.jpg)
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