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Oh, yeah, yeah. The, um, the doors were closing on her walker,
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and Lip barely got his foot in in time to stop them from...
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Jesus, Fiona!
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Can't remember whether that's good or bad.
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More likely, you two jumped the turnstiles again
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and he twisted it trying to outrun the transit cops.
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No, no! Always elevate extremities!
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Move before you give him a fucking embolism.
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You okay, Lip?
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-Yeah, just please don't... don't touch it. - Sweetheart?
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Okay.
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Wiggle your toes.