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But it wasn't you who blacked out,
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it was Witten, like most nights.
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Once he was out, you called your friend, Bob Geer.
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Bob? He's out.
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Let's do this.
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Witten woke up in a drug haze, panicked.
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Just like you planned, Bob Geer showed up in the morning,
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told Witten he'd take care of things.
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And then, you two took care of things.
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You drew your own blood.
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You made it look like you'd been roofied.
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And then you planted it in your car trunk.