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Dancing around his small, cramped, brightly lit kitchen, he twirled in circles and threw his hands in the air as he listened to Rittz on his pirated Pandora. Throwing two fingers in the air suddenly, he offered a stupid smile and said: “fuck you, Pandora.” Then, realizing the company produced- or at least distributed- content he enjoyed, he chuckled and shrugged. “Sorry, I guess.”