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These fish will never run. They're just not right.
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Not right? Well, a fish is a fish is a fish, isn't it?
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No. You see, Mrs. Maxwell, I have a vision.
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Tired, bloated pretenders are not part of this vision.
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Well, unfortunately, Her Majesty's Government also has a vision,
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and that vision is farmed fish or no fish.
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Then I must thank you for your precious time.
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And decline.
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No advisers, either.
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Back at your desk on Monday, Fred.
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Well, in that case, I resign.
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Resignation accepted.