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Mine alone.
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Five sacks for the price of ten.
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And see to it they are dryer this time shit whore.
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The last ones stank of mold.
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Do not churn good Solonius.
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The thief will suffer when prices plummet with the next harvest.
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I pray his cock follows the decline.
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You are left off leash?
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My master is at his villa.
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I yet have business to attend.
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And words searching for receptive ears.
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My situation has shifted.