Leather jacket? Check. Acid wash jeans? You know it. We're hitting the arcade tonight, so scrounge between the seats of your '84 Pontiac Fiero to find some quarters while Sweet Child o' Mine blares over the dashboard FM transistor radio. Between the flashing lights bouncing off your aviators and the smell of stale pizza, you hear rumors of the Arlington Arcade's closing. Can you save the arcade tonight?
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