Part of my duties in the day-to-day operation of Torchwood includes scanning The Internet for mentions of aliens, monsters, temporal disturbances, and that sort of thing. About half the time it's total crackpots, and most of the rest of the time it's Luke Smith's Myspace. Apparently you don't get genius without a certain lack of discretion coming
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Here's two for you: severed ween.
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I'd get six weeks of peace.
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Seriously, why do you hate me?
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I love you! Really! But Jack made certain promises of an intimate nature if I'm able to get you on board with the whole wombat thing. Sorry.
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I am extremely good at overcoming obstacles, it's true. That being said, there's no real shortage of obstacles at the moment!
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