In short, I've been having very memorable dreams lately. I have clue why, but this is my third dream in little over a week which I very intensely remember. I'm not complaining, they've been mostly good, or at least emotionally driving
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Pulp Fiction, via Shakespeare. i really, really, really want to see this performed somehow, somewhere.
Brett: What?
Julius: What country dost thou hail from?
Brett: What?
Julius: Thou sayest thou dost hail from distant What!
I know but naught of thy strange country What.
What language speak they in the land of What?
Brett: What?
Julius: English, base knave, dost thou speak it?
Brett: Aye!
Julius: Then hearken to my words and answer them!
Describe to me Marsellus Wallace!
Brett: What?
(JULIUS presses his knife to BRETT's throat)
Julius: Speak 'What' again! Thou cur, cry 'What' again!
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