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Max. Are you okay?
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The whole maternity ward is a mess,
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and it's all my fault.
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I gave everybody the wrong baby,
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I'm gonna get fired,
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and my meatball sub tasted a little off today.
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Hey, little doc.
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Maybe I can help out.
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I can perform plastic surgery on the mismatched infants
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so that they'll look more like the parents they're supposed to be with.
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Yeah, let's do that... Now.
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Hold on, Tug, this seems extreme.