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| Hi, mr Rodney. Our delays are of the fault of my dear poor son, BurgerBwoy. | |
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| Dude, it's OK, man. I'm his best friend. He came to the moon with me and, well, (How do I explain this) I came him brain damage. | |
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| Oh. Well in that case I'll put him up for adoption! | |
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| Dude, he can stay with me and my parents. | |
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| Dude, you can't stay with us! you are sooooooo gnarley! | |
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| Dude, maaaaaaan! IIII can stay wherever I waaaant. Duuuuude! | |
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