[Odd's life had a tendancy of requiring an unusual amount of laundry. A fry cook's life was hazardous enough. While Odd himself didn't object to the lingering aromas of bacon, bubbling fat and hashbrowns, they had proven to be less than welcomed by other people in his life. And then there were the stains. It could take any number of scrubbings to
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[he speaks. He doesn't have a pen and, even if he did, he wouldn't trust it to write well]
...I wouldn't know, really. I've never been there. But I suppose it would have a feel to someone who had.
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If this is Paradisa, then I guess I am new. I don't usually go to a lot of castles.
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Give the man a prize.
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[he shifts awkwardly, wondering if there was a place he could wring out his shirt without dripping all over the place]
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Did this place drop you in the pool, or did you just trip and fall in?
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I'd like to know whoever thought this was a good idea.
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I guess that'll have to stay rhetorical then.
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If you don't mind me asking, just how many people talk through this book? [he's wondering how many more are planning on commenting]
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She's hit by the resulting wave and sputters as she resurfaces.]
What the fuck is wrong with you??
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At first, he just stares at the girl he nearly drowned as he reaches for the edge of the pool to hold on to. He's really tired of being dropped into bodies of water]
Well... [there's a pause as he coughs again, grimmacing at the sting of chlorine in his throat] I've been told I'm a terrible liar.
[okay. Maybe he had some composure.]
...
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Let me rephrase that. [she swims towards the other side and grabs onto the edge so she can yell at him better.] You tried to kill me!
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...I generally try to avoid that sort of thing. Killing really isn't a required skill for fry cooks.
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