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| Greetings. We at Stick Mining Services are telling you that you have been drafted for the great Space Mine. You will leave for training soon. | |
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| HAHAHA! You? In a mine? HAHAHA! Can I come live in your shaft, lay eggs, and perform exquisite symphonies for my children? | |
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| This all doesn't seem rational. A space mine? Why the hell did this happen? Oh well...might as well go. Who knows? Maybe I'll be a hero! | |
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| Never mind you, I will make great art. I will lead poetry readings among my kind. My silicon shell will smell ... beautiful thanks to you. Now let's beam away! | |
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| I'll do it!! Stick Stickerson: Hero of the Federation mining colony! It has a nice ring to it! But can't you please have that noxious smell I love so much? | |
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| No way, dumbass. Don't you know, you can lead a horta culture, but you can't make them stink. | |
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