“And so it bloody would with you, you git, if someone asked you what you remembered of something that happened before you were born. I do not remember Keats, the Prince Regent or Jane Austen. The Brontes croaked five years before I was born. And, chip or no chip, the next buffoon who sends the Bit to ask me for eye-witness reports of the Spanish Inquisition is going to get a serious neck injury!”
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Hee, hee, hee! Brilliant.
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I love you so much...
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