Raphael wasn’t faking it. Neither was Michael Roselli. I was there. Somehow, The Quail — A Motorsports Gathering — broke both of their brains and turned them into sobbing, broken messes.
I have several theories. One, there was a shady character named “The Admiral” there, and he may have been accompanied by some CIA-trained psychic bodyguard whose brainwaves interfered with theirs. Two, they stepped into some kind of alternate universe full of radiation, and sweet cars, that is completely and slowly deadly to human brain cells.
Or it was just really hot and there were too many cool cars. Either way, reader njscorpio sums it up well:
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