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Bob, Linda. Bring it in.
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How's my favorite hostage?
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I thought you got eight years.
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You didn't escape, did you?
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It turned out the prosecutor was on meth for the entire trial!
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And he drove his car into a peacock sanctuary.
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Now he's in jail and I'm out!
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Oh, good for you.
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- I'll get you a beer. - A beer'd be nice.
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Hey, where are those whippersnappers of yours, huh?
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- Uh, I fired them. - What? No!
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That sounds harsh.