[In the afternoon, the phone picks up to a familiar voice--Though this time, there's no stutter. No nervous tone. In fact, there's no feeling in his voice what-so-ever.]
Grady. Bring her back--O-Or bring me to her. I know we all go home at one point or another, but you--I never even told her, ārlaulības bērns. [Click
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You are very funny when you want to be, little Latvia.
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Did not ask for Mister Russia's opinion.
[ARE YOU PROUD OF ME MAMALAND.... AM I THE FAVORITE.....]
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But is very obvious that you are needing Russia's opinion!
[ YOU'RE TURNING INTO A REAL MAN
THIS MUST BE STOPPED IMMEDIATELY.]
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[With every 'no', he shakes his head, reaching for another pillow. Maybe he could put rocks in it or a golem make the golem mad--]
Am not needing Mister Russia's opinion. Mister Russia is talking crazy.
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Ah-- What was that, comrade?
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[REACHES UP FOR IT YOU SUCK YOU STUPID FAT TREE--]
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Hits him upside the head with the pillow. ]
One more try.
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yanking a couch cushion off and hitting him back.]
Do not need opinion--
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Will always need Russia's opinions.
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Braginski.
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because I feel like my presence should be here but I have reading to do I MEAN stop ruining all the work we've done with disappointing weak faggot son.]
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Did not need Russia's opinion to date girl.
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. . . Ah?
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