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- I could have lost my arm. - No, you couldn't have.
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He doesn't have any teeth.
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Does it hurt?
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Like this?
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Your gut tells you to shoot my star attraction?
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No treatment, no hoof tester, just your Cornell gut.
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You know how a circus survives?
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You said it yourself, kid. On blood, sweat, pain and shit.
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When a circus begins to die and animals eat garbage,
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you know what men eat? Nothing.
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Your heart goes out to an animal suffering.
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Well, that's noble, and that's good,