So, the talking hat (which was somehow more intimidating than a talking fridge) had placed Satou in Ravenclaw. The trouble was,he had no idea what that meant, and the bizarre little bug-eyed big-eared creatures he'd seen scuttling around unnerved him too much to try and ask
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Of course, sometimes the spying left her with a little more information than she liked. For example, the weirdo underneath the buffet table. A newbie, and obviously not having a very comfortable time with it, among other things. She knelt, a good distance from the guy, and peered at him over the tops of her knees.
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"Ravenclaw, huh," she mused after a while. "Interesting choice."
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"Why not?"
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That didn't mean she wouldn't mess with him a little, though.
"You know, if you really want to blame someone for making interesting anime, you should blame the writers, not the station showing them."
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"The station pays the studios, and the studios pay the writers," he explained. "And the station shows them, exposing vulnerable people to a life of mindless servitude and enslavement!" He may or may not have been thinking of Yamazaki's collection of memorabilia.
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"I know it doesn't really," he mumbled.
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