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I don't need to tell you about inappropriate love,
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do I, Gravely?
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Put out that cigar, heart attack.
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I'm a whiz-bang uniform.
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I get promoted to vice,
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where I go undercover as a high-priced call girl,
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and I decide to actually
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have sex with my johns.
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Okay, that's not accurate,
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and you're saying it to me while I'm armed.
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Go ahead. Put me out of my misery.
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Our misery.