[Medic has, considering the circumstances, recovered from his run-in with the Post Office spectacularly well. He still can't see, and he still can't remember his own native language, but he has his Kritz (and therefore his sanity) back. He's slowly learning to navigate his house without the use of his eyes; his drone wife is being most helpful. But
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[[Sarcasm everywhere. Do you want to punch him yet, Fritz?]]
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You really feel it necessary to question why I don't trust you?
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[[But hold on now, what's this. This Fritz sounds different.]]
--on anozher note, you are not speaking as you usually do. A product of your own laziness again, I shall assume?
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No. A product of this ridiculous town and the prices it puts on possessions from home.
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Ach, you really heff gone insane in your old age! I must say, Herr, zhis is absolutely wunderbar.
[[So not mentioning the fingers he swapped for his uniform. Nope.]]
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I still have my mind, I merely lack a small portion in my language center. At least I am better than you, who has no shame or morals or talent but what he steals from others.
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Shame und morals merely get in zhe vay. But as for talent--you should heff seen zhe zhings I did after I...displaced you. I doubt you could heff ever pulled zhat off.
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[Cue blustering and huffing and general haet.]
Pulled what off, Korbinian? Merely parroting back data that you stole from me?
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[[Man, if they were face to face, Guntram probably would've been destroyed by now. As it is, why yes he's laughing at you again.]]
Oh no, not at all. I could not go very far vith your horribly flawed data. [[Snort.]] You do zhink too much of yourself, Herr Haydn. If I didn't know better, I vould say zhat you actually took pride in zhat shoddy vork of yours.
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Come out and fight me properly, you pig-dog!
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You coward!
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If I am a coward, zhen explain to my vhy I am right here in front of you?
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There's just. Indistinguishable noises of rage, and garbled English insults that sound just like a literal translation of some of the more colorful German ones.
Guntram, if you're laughing, prepare to have Fritz lunge towards the sound with a knife he filched from the kitchen aimed towards your general vicinity.]
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