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| Hey, I think you spilled some mustard on your shirt with the ketchup. | |
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| Nooooo! It's REALLY real blood! | |
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| Do you see these? These are my licenses to carry concealed weapons, and flip out and kill stuff. | |
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| So?! I've got a real Lich-mage death scythe! I'll cut you up and make you bleed! My NGage demands blood sacrfice... Blip, blip... | |
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| Okay, now you're starting to annoy me. | |
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| I'll cut your spleen out and serve it still beating to my NGage! | |
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