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The list goes on, and on, like memory.
Cohns secretary tells him they can get tickets toCats.
Cohn mimes barfing, picks up the phone, and cheerily promises, Cats!
Its about … cats, singing cats.
You, a rube, will probably love it.
What more do you should probably know?
Its appropriately as chaotic asCatsitself.
Eh, its better than being Roy Cohn.
