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| So what, exactly, am I supposed to do? | |
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| It's simple. You just go to that computer over there and tell him about how I live in my own personal Hell. | |
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| You mean all that tragic, oh-my-god-I-can't-write-worth-shit and god-help-me-my-Muses-hate-me and why-the-hell-did-the-plot-CHANGE stuff you go through everyday? | |
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| People would kill to have Muses as active as yours, you know. | |
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| Just shut up and bail me out, okay? | |
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