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Some assorted clacking, shuffling, and one bang.

Constantine, lay off the gin, he says. It'll get you in trouble, he says. You just got out of trouble...

There's a muffled mimic from John, something about trouble and deals in an affected tone.

Well, I bet he's having a laugh now.

Oh, it's a damn riot, you bastard.

Didn't see this one coming. ...never here the end of it.

A long pause.

Fuck's sake. It had to be electronic. Never trust--

The recording abruptly ends.