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"Chuck pushed me back.
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His fat, rock-like muscle tore into me.
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- 'Oh, my God,' I said." - What do you think?
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- Sounds good. - But you got a problem with it.
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It's just that your rock-like muscle
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seems to play an inordinately large role in Linda's autobiography.
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"Inordinately."
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- How'd you get here? - Mr. Hefner sent me.
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Right. And how about the next time I want your opinion,
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I'll ask you what my cock tastes like.
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Yes, sir, boss.
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Reckon it tastes like a pina colada.