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Oh, dear lord.
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You're tinkle-town?
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Don't call me that.
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All your fake sweetness and religion
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is just a veil covering a horrible monster.
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And I had a lot of Mountain Dew that day!
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There's an 80 percent chance
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you can't leave Woodstock until you bone these hippies.
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Oh, boy.
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You know what I came for, scum.
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Where is it?
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In the closet. In the closet, man.