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| You're nothing to me now, Alice. You're not a maid...you're not a friend...I don't want to know you or what you do. | |
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| I don't want you anywhere near the clubhouse or my room. When you serve dinner, I want to know an hour in advance so that I won't be there. | |
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| Oh, for Pete's sake, Greg. For the last time, I didn't throw away your copy of "Monster-Dick Pud Pounders." | |
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