[This has not been Garviel's day. Really it just hasn't. He's been stabbed through his primary heart, had some jerkass steal his identity, and then left with the check of an eat and run. He stands up, settles his bill, and stumbles out of the diner, still bleeding from a jagged hole in his back, which is quickly scabbing over into a blood-seal.]
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"Ah... you again. Hello?" [he looks with confusion at the props.]
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"I am unaware of these rules of comedy, perhaps you can explain them?"
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