[The NV isn't showing much of anything, because it's in Crowley's coat pocket, though you can definitely hear some muffled cursing. It isn't in English, and it's actually quite offensive, if anyone knows Latin, but don't worry, it probably isn't directed at you. A scraping of a gate, a thrown aside trash can, and it sounds as if Crowley is walking
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You're gonna have a hard time takin' that thing for a walk.
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[Rather easily.]
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She do any tricks?
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She also does a wonderful job of hunting for her own food.
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But she'll fetch me anything I ask.
[It's dead useful when you need to get into a tight spot.]
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You've got her well trained then. Hell, that's impressive for a normal dog, much less a hell beast. I swear some people are even worse gettin' their dogs to listen then they are their kids, which is damned impressive.
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[Mildly.]
She's born from the pits of Hell, as am I. It forms something of a bond.
That and she's fond of steak.
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[an amused snort] Can't fault someone for good taste.
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It's our trade. The crossroads belong to us. We offer whatever it is the summoner wants, for a price. It isn't our problem what they choose to do with it.
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Dick Cheney offered me his soul in order to win the election for the Bush/Cheney ticket. I offered him twenty years to do whatever it is needed to be done, but when that twenty was up, he would visit Hell and leave behind a shattered country in his wake. I mean, honestly, I don't even vote and I could tell that was a bloody bad idea, but you know old white men and their superiority complex.
[He looks vaguely smug.]
You didn't think Floridians were actually that stupid, did you?
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