Not my fault the Wardens all scatter like roaches.
Not my fault y'all don't have the stomach, either.
Deal.
Sing a song of sixpence a pocket full of rye,
Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie.
When the pie was opened the birds began to sing,
Oh wasn't that a dainty dish to set before the king?
[ Private to Aaron, the Master, and Two-Face
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How willing you are to be punished for punishing.
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She was still eating a sentient being even if I am not fully her species. It is no less disgusting and immoral regardless of technical terms.
And she ate Giselle as well.
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