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Summary
Excluding the most important holidays, there was only one other day a year that Grillby’s was closed. If anyone actually looked inside, they would see Grillby sitting alone at the bar, his flames dim and with a picture pressed against his chest, reminiscing about a bittersweet past. No one would know why, but that was because everyone had forgotten the man Grillby had fallen in love with: W. D. Gaster.