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Cecil finds himself alone with an art critic on the streets of New York
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| How the fuck did I end up with this bitch? | |
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| Hey maaaan, just like chill the F-U-C-K out maaan | |
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The situation becomes worse
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| I cant take this shit anymore! I have to kill him! | |
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| This cat's goning all far out on my vaggabond ass! I'd better bust a cap! | |
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After busting a cap the Art critic waxes lyrical about his thoughts of the day. That pretentious prick.
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| Why lord? Why has this goddamn hippy wannabe killed me and left me in a bin? | |
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| That'll teach you, you motherfucking Buzzkiller piece of shit!....Motherfuck! | |
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