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Cells are overflowing, My Lord.
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This lot won't be here long.
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Don't need no permanent place.
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After we interrogate 'em, we usually just...
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Are we so well-manned
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that we can afford to discard able young bodies and skilled laborers?
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You, do you have a trade?
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Smith, My Lord.
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What are you looking at? Kneel!
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Kneel or I'll carve your lungs out, boy.
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He'll do no such thing.
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This one's a girl, you idiot,