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Now, Riley, my best friend in the whole world— even though I don’t admit it sometimes— was in his dorm room the next morning, about five or six in the morning, right around the ass-crack of dawn. He was asleep in his bed, tucked away and off to dreamland. I would be, too, if I had as good a life as he did. But then, out of nowhere, the mailman came to his door and knocked on it. “Letter for Mr. Zinc!” the mailman proclaimed. “Huh?” Riley wondered to himself as the letter went through the bottom opening of his door. He had just woke up and got his sleep in, but it wasn’t much because he’