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I've got a cheeky wee single malt here for you.
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Only for the developed palate, 49 years aged.
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Merry Christmas and all that shite.
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Well, I suppose one between friends couldn't hurt.
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- Happy Christmas. - Is it?
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How are you getting on with that whisky then, Bladesey?
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Feel a bit tipsy, Bruce.
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Hello and welcome to the Fantastic...
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Manchester! Manchester!
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- You do it, man. - No.
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Come on, give it a try.
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No, really, Bruce.