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| Passepartout, excitable Frenchman extraordinaire, at your service, Monsieur Fogg. Are we really travelling around the world? At least it's all been boring until India. | |
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| Now that we're here, though, be sure to respect the local customs... unless they offend your Western sensibilities, in which case, go nuts. | |
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| So this is America. I don't know what's scarier -- the savage natives, the angry Mormons, or the rampaging bands of voters. What do you think? | |
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| Well, Improbable Love Interest, I think I should probably say something about the detective who's trying to apprehend Mr. Fogg... but then again maybe I won't. | |
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| Well, we're in a real pickle, for about the hundredth time. But this time I think it's serious. Only a questionable, expedient plot twist could get us home in time now. | |
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| I wouldn't worry about it... I mean, this is Jules Verne we're talking about. | |
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