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| Hey, Locke, have you seen my boy? | |
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| Walt respects me more, Michael. I'm a lot more faithful and nurturing than you'll ever be. | |
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| Where the fuck do you get off? | |
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| God gave me permission, Michael. He healed my legs and now He wants Walt and me to dig up a hatch out in the jungle. | |
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| Look, you baldheaded perv, stay the hell away from my boy! | |
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| Busted! Well, onto Plan B - where's that twinkie Boone? | |
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