I've found recently that things are not quite as... improved, or comfortable, in this cell block as I had initially thought. I put in a few requests with those dimwitted guards to transfer me back to my old cell, but now they try to tell me that that cell is occupied. They're just too lazy to bother with the paperwork. They're just like the
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My name is Richard Wellington. Perhaps you've heard of me; I'd be surprised if you haven't.
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She. Is. Mine.
Stay away from her or else.
I don't like repeating myself.
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W-What?? I-I can't even...
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Those guards had better get their paperwork in order soon if they know what's good for them...
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You can totally chat with her.
I'm just saying to watch what you say. She's mine so don't get any funny ideas. I can get pretty protective.
But she's stuck here too, so don't think I'd be mean enough to say she can't talk to people in here.
Please, talk with her all you like.
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...That won't be necessary. I... decided that I don't want to talk to her anymore. I really don't.
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I'm not gonna force you.
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Did you like, wind up giving someone food poisoning? Like, that's a pretty sad reason to get thrown in prison.
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I can't stand here and let my fabulous name be tarnished by such ridiculousness.
My first name isn't "Beef." It's "Richard." It should be obvious to you since I am overflowing with style and elegance, but I will tell you anyways that I would never sully my name with a lowly occupation such as "salesman," much less a "beef" one.
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