About this time back home, they have a festival called Mari Lwyd where someone goes from house to house singing at each door. If they're let in and given food and drink, they bring good luck. [pause] My mother wrote me. She says she always misses me this time of year. I almost want to try it myself, but I sort of doubt anyone would give me food and
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Go sing at my sister. She'll probably cram you full of food to shut you up.
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The people inside the house have to sing back. I don't know if Tyrol's done enough wrong to instigate me and one of your sisters singing at each other loudly through a door.
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[Filter: Mari verch Llewelyn]
Well, Lena and me have moved out, so the only one to hear you would be my sister and her piece of shit husband. And the monkey.
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[Filter: Elia Cosimo]
Monkey?
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[Filter: Mari verch Llewelyn]
That's my sister down there, talking about the monkey. She's the one that'd feed you.
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[Filter: Elia Cosimo]
They're the animals that look like little fellows? ["I want one"] I can feed myself, but I would like to see it.
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[Filter: Mari verch Llewelyn]
Sorta, if the fellows you know run round naked and are covered in hair.
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[Filter: Elia Cosimo]
I think Caelus Stark's about one summer away from that.
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