Oh, Debs.

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There’s something about this drapey extravaganza coupled with the way she’s cradling that ball (insert “that’s what SHE said” joke here) that makes her look sort of like a soothsayer on the verge of being hospitalized for exhaustion and dehydration. “Fine, fine, I’ll see what the future holds for you. God. I’m so tired. I wonder if a Vitamin B shot would help. Um…yeah, don’t travel on the 7th. Is this a new bruise? Damn. I need to get my iron levels checked. Uh…a man from your past is going to reappear. He wants something from you, or something. I don’t know. Do you mind if I lie down? Also, the gods want me to tell you to quit trying to kill your brother. That’s all I’m getting. Sorry, kid. Leave the cash on the table.”