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They belong to me.
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You're in the wrong place, sweetheart.
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No, n-no, uh, some bikers stole our clothes,
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and we were told that this is their stomping ground.
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Will be by later on this afternoon.
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Pretty much every biker within a hundred miles
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comes here for happy hour.
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Thank you.
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Okay, let's get cozy.
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Looks like we're hanging out in a Sons of Anarchy episode
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until my ring shows up.
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Well, we might as well make the most of it.