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Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips
Slugs. Little black fucking slugs.
Look, it's Nancy's house.
...needing to use their weakness as an advantage.
I just lose and lose and lose, and you have everything.
Wow, to be you.
-Your guild? -Online Gaming World.
And Hodes, jerk.
-Don't mess with her. She's loco. -I really am.
-I do have nice handwriting. -And in the morning, we go.
I stock everything in your dispensary.
Not my ax.
I brought back your roller skates, sunglasses.
Albatross.
That's what Judah said. What you said.
Give me your jacket.
...when he babbled on about the powerless...
Oh, you think I'm pathetic. I'm dressed like Molly Ringwald.
-For a follow-up? -For whatever you decide.
-Pot growers have agents? -Oh, sure.
What do you think of coriander?
I've gone to Van Nuys five times. It's no big deal. For me.
...and his little sister let me finger-bang her.
-We're done here. -Oh, please.
Is that acid?
Come on, Judah, make me a woman.
Okay, now that you called it your ax, I'm for sure taking it.
He's hanging out in the garage.
...fondue.
-Who? -Buddy of mine from high school.
And I'm not talking the fun card-counting-savant kind either.
What do you know? Imagination.
Eat my balls.
I hear IKEA's having a tent sale.
Stop it, deaf-girl fucker. Deaf-fucker.
You're getting an F. Now get the fuck out.