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| A Night To Remember | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Apr 28 2009, 11:45 PM (1,542 Views) | |
| Dorothy Khushrenada | May 2 2009, 04:45 PM Post #11 |
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Magnificent God-like Treize's Snugglebunny
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She smiled again as he slipped on his mask. He was a good father, too. She wasn't particularly thrilled about dressing up as a high school student, but she had promised Anda that the child could pick out the costumes, so she had to live with it. It was very nice of Treize to put up with it, too. Whatever his faults, he was a good, loving, and caring father, and it was one of his most endearing qualities to her. Music started, and he gave her a large bow. She giggled, her mood lifting dramatically. If she could curtsy in this outfit, she probably would have. She could curtsy very elegantly and was quite proud of it after all those hours she had been forced to practice them. "It would give me great pleasure if you would grace me with this dance, Honey Buckets." "I'd love to." She took his arm happily. "Honey Buckets? Really, Treize, where do you come up with these?" She slipped her mask back on keeping the regret out of her face. "I wish I had a real dress on." She would look so much better dancing in a real ballgown. "Next time Anda wants to help, she only gets to make suggestions. I've learned my lesson. She won't get to make the decision without our approval." She reentered the ballroom with her groom. She felt a little stuffy inside after adjusting to the atmosphere outside. She also felt as if a cloud returned to her mind as well, but that could have been in her head. She decided it was and commanded her brain to clear itself, focusing on not tripping over her own feet. |
| No, I'm not a crazy beezy. Why do you ask? | |
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| Treize Khushrenada | May 2 2009, 09:09 PM Post #12 |
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Magnificent and God-like
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"Honey Buckets? Really, Treize, where do you come up with these?" "Just part of my diplomatic training, my dear. You wouldn't believe how many times I had to call General Septum 'Honey Buckets' in meetings." That was a joke, of course. He never referred to Septum as anything but 'Fat Head.' Dorothy probably knew that already, however, so Treize just smiled charmingly and led her to the dance floor. "I wish I had a real dress on. Next time Anda wants to help, she only gets to make suggestions. I've learned my lesson. She won't get to make the decision without our approval." Well, that was a relief. Treize would have preferred if she were wearing something else, too. Maybe something from wherever that blonde over there with the waiter and Captain Kirk got her clothes. Or whatever it was she was wearing. There were quite a few couples already on the floor when they arrived, spinning and gliding in box steps. Treize lifted his lady's arm and launched smoothly into step with the others as they slowly sailed around the ballroom. The waltz was quite an elegant dance, and Treize loved nothing so much as elegant things—perhaps the reason he'd always been so fond of Dorothy. For some reason she still struck him as seeming rather unhappy, and this, he was discomfited to discover, gave him a twinge of distress. How did she ever get under his skin like this? It used to be that her grief was her own, and though he might feel disappointed when she was sad, it never truly hurt him. Now it actually pained him to see her despairing, and he hated her having such control over his senses. He was the one who was supposed to control and manipulate, damn her. How dare she infiltrate his armor and countermand his emotions. He'd have to do something about this. Just as soon as he figured out how to cheer her up. What was she so upset about anyway? Surely she didn't believe the marquis' servants were going to attack the ball in a repeat of the previous gathering. No, it wasn't like Dorothy to worry about acts of violence in any case. This was probably one of those annoying woman things. Treize hated woman things. They always detracted from Treize things. True, it had been a long day. The wedding was exhausting, and he'd be glad to get home. He wasn't all that tired, though. Perhaps what Dorothy needed was a nice long honeymoon. He hadn't given a lot of thought to one, as there were few places on earth the two of them hadn't been at one time or another, though rarely together. "Tell me, Sweetie Wumpums, if you could do anything you wanted for your honeymoon—go absolutely anywhere—where would you like to go, and what would you want to do?" |
| Milliardo, I'll be waiting on the other side. You'll find me in the penthouse suite with a fine brandy, listening to Dvořák. Be sure to wipe your feet. | |
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| Dorothy Khushrenada | May 2 2009, 11:30 PM Post #13 |
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Magnificent God-like Treize's Snugglebunny
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"Tell me, Sweetie Wumpums, if you could do anything you wanted for your honeymoon—go absolutely anywhere—where would you like to go, and what would you want to do?" Dorothy was so happy that she was able to move through the dance steps without thinking that she didn't register Treize's questions at first. After losing herself to the dance, it took a couple paces before she rewound what he said and replayed it in her mind. "Tell me, Sweetie Wumpums, if you could do anything you wanted for your honeymoon—go absolutely anywhere—where would you like to go, and what would you want to do?" "And who did you call 'Sweetie Wumpums'? Brigadier General Daigonegell?" she asked in amusement. "I could ask Anda to pick, but she'd probably invite herself along and have us go to Disney World." She giggled at the thought of Anda dragging Treize through the horrid amusement park. As amusing as that was—and it was very amusing—she turned her thoughts to a more serious tone. "I thought you knew what people did on honeymoons, darling," she said with one last jest. "However, when we do bother to leave our room, I think I'd like to shop...and to sunbathe...on the beach! But I want a pool, too, because you get so much stuff on you in saltwater. I don't want any reporters following us...at least not most of the time. I'm really very tired of them...but I know how you need to be seen to get elected and how you love to see yourself on TV and quoted by everyone." She smiled. "Do you have somewhere you want to go?" She thought for a moment. Where was warm and secluded? "How about one of those islands Julius Dermail owned? Who got those?" |
| No, I'm not a crazy beezy. Why do you ask? | |
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| Treize Khushrenada | May 3 2009, 01:08 PM Post #14 |
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Magnificent and God-like
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"Tell me, Sweetie Wumpums, if you could do anything you wanted for your honeymoon—go absolutely anywhere—where would you like to go, and what would you want to do?" "I could ask Anda to pick, but she'd probably invite herself along and have us go to Disney World." Disney World? Treize wouldn't mind that—it's where his player was probably going to wind up in another week—just as long as they eventually landed on Pleasure Island. Anda would need a babysitter, however, and that meant bringing Summer along, and that meant having no privacy. It wouldn't surprise him if Summer marched right into their room while they were in the middle of lovemaking and told them how it reminded her of sessions with her husband. She'd then give them a graphic play by play that ended with both of them trying not to throw up, and— "No, we're not going to bring Anda along. We'll have to think of something else to do on our honeymoon, Gumdrop." "I thought you knew what people did on honeymoons, darling." "Ah, yes. But we could do that anywhere, Cuppycake." Maybe that was an idea. Take her on an around-the-world cruise with the goal of making love in every location of special significance in his life. There would be a lot of outdoor sex that way, as most of his early years were spent on the parade grounds at the Academy. Hmm...maybe not. Perhaps somewhere where they'd spend a lot of time indoors then. "However, when we do bother to leave our room, I think I'd like to shop...and to sunbathe...on the beach! But I want a pool, too, because you get so much stuff on you in saltwater." Hmm...Cancún? Aruba? Belize? And where was that pool in the hotel in Italy with windows cut into it so people sitting in the nightclub could watch the swimmers underwater? Was that Lake Como? For some reason, the idea of voyeurism really turned him on. "I don't want any reporters following us...at least not most of the time. I'm really very tired of them...but I know how you need to be seen to get elected and how you love to see yourself on TV and quoted by everyone." "Pudding, you make it sound as if I flirt with the camera. It's more a matter of wanting to impart my vision to the masses, for their own good. Surely there's no one who would make a better President than myself. We must therefore educate the common voter of the wisdom of it—make him see how superior I am to my opponents. You don't really want Zac Efron in the Presidential Palace, do you, my sweet?" What a ghastly thought. That idiot heartthrob would probably repaint it in graffiti right before legalizing drugs, causing the stock market to crash by raising the minimum wage to a million euros and declaring every Friday a holiday. "Do you have somewhere you want to go? How about one of those islands Julius Dermail owned? Who got those?" "I'm not sure. I imagine they would have been divided 50-50 between both children, if they hadn't been sold previously to pay debts. I've heard nothing about them. I suppose we could ask my mother while she's here." If anyone knew, surely his matushka did. She always kept her ear to the ground, hoping to uncover gossip and family secrets. As for where he'd like to go...a hunting expedition would be grand. A safari for big game, perhaps. He knew his sugar dumpling wouldn't appreciate that, however. Women simply didn't understand the need for a man to go outside and kill things. Dorothy needed to spend some time in this Zac Efron mask. Then she'd know. "Maybe the colonies. Surely there must be an exotic vacation spot somewhere in space." |
| Milliardo, I'll be waiting on the other side. You'll find me in the penthouse suite with a fine brandy, listening to Dvořák. Be sure to wipe your feet. | |
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| Dorothy Khushrenada | May 3 2009, 04:00 PM Post #15 |
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Magnificent God-like Treize's Snugglebunny
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"Pudding, you make it sound as if I flirt with the camera." "You flirt with everyone, darling. The camera is just one of many. I suppose people who are just naturally charming like you can't help it, but it does make me rather jealous at times." She smiled. "But you must be jealous of me for marrying you," she teased in good nature. "It's more a matter of wanting to impart my vision to the masses, for their own good. Surely there's no one who would make a better President than myself. We must therefore educate the common voter of the wisdom of it—make him see how superior I am to my opponents." Dorothy was a very good girl and resisted rolling her eyes. God help her if he lost. There'd be no living with him then. Thankfully, she felt there was little chance of his losing. The only thing Treize ever lost in his life was his virginity. If need be, the election could always be rigged...but she rather doubted that would be necessary. "You don't really want Zac Efron in the Presidential Palace, do you, my sweet?" "Only if there's a second waiter attack," she quipped, "but I can't imagine anyone there but you. Just try to show some restraint and not decorate the entire place with artwork of yourself? If you want to get reelected, that is." She brought her hand up to move some hair off his face, but of course it fell right back to its original location once she brought her hand down. "Some people might think it arrogant and conceited." Which he was, bless him, but the public didn't need to know that. "I'm not sure. I imagine they would have been divided 50-50 between both children, if they hadn't been sold previously to pay debts." 50-50? She remembered her grandfather boasting on how he had gotten a great share of fortune and left his sister with little. Perhaps Aunt Eleanor thought the same thing about Dorothy's grandfather? Still, it was curious that neither she nor Treize knew what happened to the islands. Perhaps it meant nothing, but she was dubious about such things after the events of the last few months. She was still in the middle of revamping Romefeller, and she had not found out who was behind the latest events. That troubled her, though she tried not to show it. Well, perhaps Aunt Eleanor or Her Grace would know. Perhaps it was nothing as serious as she feared. "Maybe the colonies. Surely there must be an exotic vacation spot somewhere in space." Hm? Oh, yes, the honeymoon. She pushed away the distracting thoughts. She could worry about Romefeller and the upcoming war later. While they still had time for a peaceful vacation, she wanted to snag the opportunity. If she read the signs right and Treize was president when it came to pass, he would probably be too busy for her. "Pili told me about a hotel orbiting one of the colonies. The inner walls of the rooms are solid and regular, but the ceiling and at least one side is all plasma window so that you can see the stars. They have a retractable wall you can set for privacy. "There's also a colony in the...L-3 Cluster, I think...that's supposed to be a jungle paradise but has wonderful shopping. There's a city at the center and the rest is 'wild' jungle. As wild as a colony could get, I suppose. It's supposed to be rather beautiful. "And of course, there are numerous other colonies set up to pander to the wants of those with vast disposable incomes." Too soon, the waltz had finished, and she had to stop to give the orchestra the praise it deserved with the other guests. "Well, now, should we be sociable or claim that we were too caught up in each other to speak to the other guests?" |
| No, I'm not a crazy beezy. Why do you ask? | |
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| Milliardo Peacecraft | May 3 2009, 05:57 PM Post #16 |
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Flava Flav, Hot Version
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This time, Mil was armed. It didn't matter if nothing happened or the next world war hit, Milliardo Peacecraft was never going without personal weaponry again. He had with him not only his bowie knife, but a lovely cowboy-esque pistol strapped at his back -- it would never be noticed under the cloak he wore -- and a lovely store of extra ammo tucked away in various pockets. The tightened security had been easily bought with his name and a few hundred credits, much to his bemusement. It killed any faith he might have had in said security, honestly. His late night movie watching habits had recently reacquainted him with the Lord of the Rings and influenced him greatly. Really, how perfect was Aragorn as a costume for him? Best part, no mask. Who needed one when the cloak came with a hood so deep no one could make out anything underneath it when pulled low? See? ![]() He even made sure the pipe was real. With a good sized stash of black cherry tobacco in a pocket not containing an extra clip or two. He hoped to blow a healthy cloud of aromatic smoke into the face of anyone that annoyed him. It might not chase them away, what with the lovely scent, but it would make him feel better. Mil figured with how much of a headache most of the guests tended to give him, he'd be lucky to have brought enough for refills. Standing off to one side, he noted a couple that were obviously Treize and Dorothy. He would never mistake them. And there was always Barton -- Mil silently applauded the man's choice of captains. Kirk was... quite the stud... in his... prime... after all. (Oh dear. How awful. He was thinking in Shatner-ese. No more!) Of his sister, there was as yet no sign. He'd hoped to exchange words with her. Some strides at connecting with her had been made, but they were by no means anywhere near as close as he wished. Perhaps he would ask after her later. Mil found himself at a loss to name most anyone else, masked or no. Despite his reintroduction to society, wanted or not, he hadn't put much effort into learning the crowd. Sure, he recognized a few as they'd purchased animals from the ranch, but really, what need did he have of knowing everyone? Speaking of the ranch, he really wanted to get back soon. Randy and a few junior hands were gearing up as local rodeo season neared. Three of his men (and a couple of the ladies) were going on circuit this year and Mil wanted to cheer them on, if only at the first event. His time had been rather split over the last two months, what with the ranch and playing sidekick to Treize on occasions when the campaign trail needed him. (He was really going to hurt Yuy the next time he saw him -- politics sucked and he was, even worse, ultimately just the pretty face of the Khushrenada/Peacecraft ticket. Ugh. Ugh ugh ugh.) With little else to do, he wandered his way over to "Good evening," he greeted both halves of the duo, giving a nod of his head to Dorothy, pulling back the hood just enough to reveal his face for a moment. "Not that you really needed me intruding like this, but I thought I'd make my presence known." |
| I'm the only John Wayne left in this town. | |
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| Treize Khushrenada | May 4 2009, 12:42 PM Post #17 |
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Magnificent and God-like
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Ah, the second best man was here. "Cough! Cough cough gasp! Cough cough! " Treize was suddenly overcome by a severe coughing fit, and began fanning the smoke away. "Oh, Milliardo. Cough cough wheeze! You probably weren't aware of this, my eternal friend, but your smoke has drifted into my vicinity. Ah, that's better. Say, that's quite a costume. A 13th century Franciscan monk, isn't it? Quite stunning." It reminded Treize of how much he wanted to shag Zechs. If you could be turned on by a 13th century Franciscan monk, you must have it bad. Unfortunately, though he'd love to cheat on his wife, it would ruin his campaign. And there was that annoying Seven Year Itch rule that prohibited adultery until the seventh year of marriage. Where had he heard that, anyway? It was certainly embedded in his mind somehow. Fortunately, there was no such rule that applied to wives, so Dorothy was forbidden to ever cheat on him. But none of this prevented him from occasionally indulging in a little eye candy. As long as he could glimpse at the blonde rancher every now and then, he'd be happy. That was assured if they won the election. Both the families of the President and Vice President would have to move into the Presidential Palace. If they lost the election, Zechs would probably go back to Arizona or Oklahoma, or whichever Third World country he came from, and Treize would never see him again. Good thing Milliardo owned a ranch. Treize would have to buy a lot more ponies for Anda from him. Anda reminded him of Dorothy, and that reminded him of honeymoon. "Hmm....that jungle colony sounds interesting. One of these days I'm going to have to hire a secretary specifically to do research on things like this." He should have done that earlier, like before the wedding, but frankly all his thought back then was on shagging Dorothy, so things like the wedding and the honeymoon rather slipped his mind. "No matter, my sugar dumpling. I'll take you anywhere you want to go. We'll just have to find a colony somewhere with big game hunting on the beach and plenty of shopping." There; the honeymoon was now taken care of, as he'd shifted the responsibility for finding a suitable locale to the little woman. Back to Zechs. "Good evening. Not that you really needed me intruding like this, but I thought I'd make my presence known." "Nonsense, my friend. You're no intrusion. I'm sure a waiter will be along with a tray of drinks any moment since I need one now, and the three of us shall drink a toast to our illustrious future." |
| Milliardo, I'll be waiting on the other side. You'll find me in the penthouse suite with a fine brandy, listening to Dvořák. Be sure to wipe your feet. | |
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| Milliardo Peacecraft | May 4 2009, 06:16 PM Post #18 |
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Flava Flav, Hot Version
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"Cough! Cough cough gasp! Cough cough! Oh, Milliardo. Cough cough wheeze! You probably weren't aware of this, my eternal friend, but your smoke has drifted into my vicinity." "Oh, has it? So sorry," Mil apologized at his most facetious. His smirk was hidden in shadow as he watched Treize wave the smoke aside. "Ah, that's better. Say, that's quite a costume. A 13th century Franciscan monk, isn't it? Quite stunning." A 13th century Franciscan monk? Rather than attempt to correct Treize -- mostly because he knew it was a useless endeavor -- Milliardo instead pondered the joy of blowing smoke at the man again. His reaction to the first cloud had been quite satisfactory, really. Also, Mil took advantage of the shadows cast by his hood to hide his rather obvious cringing at the pet name Treize lobbed off on Dorothy. Knowing Treize, it was probably one of the less gag-inducing of the night. "Nonsense, my friend. You're no intrusion. I'm sure a waiter will be along with a tray of drinks any moment since I need one now, and the three of us shall drink a toast to our illustrious future." Milliardo sighed. He'd better nip this one in the bud. More than once Treize had suggested drinks since they'd come back into one another's graces. He didn't honestly expect Treize to get it through his obnoxious head that one Mister Peacecraft now happily refrained from drink, but it sure got anno- Again with the annoying. Preparing another deep lungful of smoke, Mil let it loose as he replied. The smoke writhed around Treize's face, again soothing Mil's nerves quite nicely. Enough that he bit back the much stronger tongue-lashing he originally had in mind, even. Dorothy might appreciate nothing uncouth going down tonight, seeing as it was somewhat special. (He'd save it for later, though, maybe.) "If perhaps I can attain something without spirits, I might partake in this proposed toast of yours." And he'd best calm down on the smoking Treize out. Too often and he might begin to suspect it wasn't at all accidental. Couldn't have that. Besides, he might need to use it on someone else before the night was out. Wouldn't do to use it all up on one man, now would it? |
| I'm the only John Wayne left in this town. | |
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| Dorothy Khushrenada | May 4 2009, 08:15 PM Post #19 |
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Magnificent God-like Treize's Snugglebunny
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Dorothy gave a little cough to clear her lungs of the smoke that filled them, turning her head to breathe in clear air. She took a moment to glance back at what the other guests were doing. "Hmm....that jungle colony sounds interesting. One of these days I'm going to have to hire a secretary specifically to do research on things like this. No matter, my sugar dumpling. I'll take you anywhere you want to go. We'll just have to find a colony somewhere with big game hunting on the beach and plenty of shopping." Dorothy actually did have a secretary who was supposed to do stuff like that—Alice—but she had just assumed that Treize had some place in mind. No matter. She would just have Alice do it; at the next available moment, she'd call the woman and have her start as soon as possible. She ignored, for the most part, the exchange between the men and just watched them and the other guests. And to think that Mr. Milliardo had once wanted to kill Treize. Now here they were on the same ticket. Treize needed a waiter and, just as he predicted, one magically appeared. To save time, he even had glasses of water on his tray. Dorothy took a glass and waited patiently for her husband's superfluous speech. |
| No, I'm not a crazy beezy. Why do you ask? | |
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| Treize Khushrenada | May 5 2009, 03:06 PM Post #20 |
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Magnificent and God-like
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As if Treize ever gave superfluous speeches. No, this occasion called for something witty and brilliant. Rather like all his other speeches. Grabbing what looked like a scotch old-fashioned from the tray, he raised it in the air and proposed a toast. "Today marks the beginning of an amazing new alliance, that between myself and my cousin Dorothy. They say the ancient Egyptian pharaohs married their kin because there were none other who were worthy of them. How true this is in this case. There could be no better confluence of genes than to combine the Catalonias' with the Khushrenadas'. Nature herself may as well halt the process of evolution, as she will never surpass the conjugation attained this afternoon. "Together we will exceed the sum of our genes to produce an übermensch, or superman, on a scale that Nietzsche never dreamed. Our offspring will accomplish what no other has ever achieved: an end to war for all time. For wars are heartless, as someone wise once said. While I firmly believe that war is an excellent forge for strengthening the mettle of mankind, for weeding out the weak and exposing the poseur, I also think it's a method no longer needed. The new yardstick by which to measure the human soul will be this übermensch, and in comparison all mankind will fail. It's time to put down our weapons and embrace the new era. "Mankind has a need and a desire to be ruled. Some may say that my Presidency will result in excess rule. I look at it as a way of governing to keep people's unnecessary ambitions under control. God permits people the freedom to make war. This freedom compromises the happiness of all, and must be kept in check. To do this, one must have power surpassing that of God's. Since God has granted me freedom to do as I please, I'm sure God would understand my intentions. "The emotions of those thought to be beautiful are always full of sorrow. Who, may I ask, could be considered truly more beautiful than myself? The beautiful so frequently are destroyed by battle, the winners eventually decline in power and become losers...and then those losers cultivate a new leader. I'm telling you I want to be a loser. I wish to cultivate a new leader, a leader worthy of the superior era soon to come. Who better than myself to lead the weak out of the darkness? "Let us raise our glasses then, and drink a toast to this new era—an era bought with the blood of the dead from past wars. They would approve of our actions, I have no doubt, and would consider their sacrifice well worth the reward. Bottoms up." There. Anyone in the house still awake? |
| Milliardo, I'll be waiting on the other side. You'll find me in the penthouse suite with a fine brandy, listening to Dvořák. Be sure to wipe your feet. | |
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