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Well, it had to be done, didn't it? And since this is both the first and last post, I have won. Thank you all.
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For some help our Dez fishes?
It's not a thing the Prize relishes.
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Nothing he chutneys, either, but he can get back here and help. I'm old.
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Don't worry - I'll ask him to send a courier to you with a walking stick. ;-)
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He must come here himself. I own him. Stop being obstructive.
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Slavedriver, the prize needs more then working all around the clock for you.
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I quite agree. He prefers being with me, where everything is hickory dickory dory.
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Gesine! You know how to hurt me, don't you? I am not a slavedriver. I am a slave owner. Vastly different.
And, Moff - what does fish have to do with anything?
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I am going to forgive you that error, because you clearly have no understanding of the word, "winner", do you? Just look closely at my avatar. That is what a winner looks like. Then lopok closely at yours and the Moff's. Do they look like me? NO! It's settled, then.
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Oh, now you ply me with flattery! But I see through it. Unhand my prize. It's his dinnertime and I have his favourite.
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The Prize still trembles violently every time mention is made of "dinnertime". He recalls the "S" word (sssshhh - SOUP!). That's why he's staying put here with me where he can have steak pie instead.
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No, steak pie, silly! I only eat things that have legs.
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That the prize belongs to me? Jolly good. That's a majority then.
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Er, short!
We only agree to the meat.
But in real christian households today is fishday.
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Don't be daft - he could never manage to eat all of you.
:-)
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Now you've scared him. He hates you for even suggesting that. He hugs his mummy and drags me out of your presence.