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You just take Soupy Sales to prom.
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I can think of so many cooler things to do that night.
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Like, you know what, Bleek? I might pumice my feet.
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I might go to Bren's dumb Unitarian Church.
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Maybe get hit by a truck full of hot garbage juice, you know,
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'cause all those things would be exponentially cooler
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than going to prom with you.
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You're being really immature.
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You have no reason to be mad at me.
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I mean, you know, you broke my heart.
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I... I should be royally ticked off at you, you know.
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I should be really cheesed off.