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| Master Reggie, your brunch is ready. | |
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| I refuse to eat that culinary garbage. Feed it to that dim-witted kid you spawned. | |
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| Oh my dear. If the Lord & Lady only knew Master Reggie spoke to people this way. | |
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| After the little dummie eats, tell him to play catch with me outside, chop chop! | |
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| Too bad you no catch knife so good, Reggie. NOW, try catch THIS...chop, chop! | |
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| Fatha, mutha...save me. The cooks demon seed is throwing daggars & axes at your sweet and innocent heir. | |
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