Mart. Oh they are at it. Lart. Their noise be our instruction.
That cocktails will batter you!
{Gun pointing at head} Sorry, Quigley, but you had your chance to cooperate. / Bob, straighten the tarp, we don’t want the rug splattered.
And she handed me twenty dollars / For a two fifty fare, she said / Harry, keep the change.
Harry, keep the change.
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