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The dimly lit bathroom is a far cry from the rest of the club, with peeling paint on the walls and a cracked mirror above the sink. The smell of stale beer and urine lingers in the air, mingling with the faint scent of bleach that seems to have lost its effectiveness long ago. The cracked tiles on the floor are sticky underfoot, and the single flickering light bulb casts eerie shadows on the walls. The only source of comfort in this grimy space is the small stall in the corner, with a cracked door and a large hole in the wall.
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