John: Check Rose's bookshelf.

You eye your birthday package again curiously. It's awfully tempting to peek inside, but you feel guilty about it for some reason, even though it's yours anyway.

You suppose a perusal of her bookshelf would be harmless enough. Just a bunch of books. The knowledge within is meant for everybody.

Dave pesters you with the message, "TG: afdsjjjjjjjjvfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff" which you decide not to bother dignifying with a whole pesterlog ordeal because it's probably just him being a truculent jackass again so screw him.

> John: Look at a book.
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