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Stan 2022-01-06 08:01:07
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Mortdecai: [upon viewing a murder victim] Ugh. I think this women has need of a chiropractor.
Martland: Bronwen Fellworthy, Oxford art restorer. Did you know here?
Mortdecai: Slightly. I do recall a vague memory of her having once, involuntarily, one would hope, releasing a fart of such frightening power and timbre that I feared she had done herself a horrible mischief.
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Mortdecai: [calling through the door] Johanna. Are you all right in there, darling? It is I, Charlie... Your husband.
Johanna: What is it?
Mortdecai: Oh, moon of my delight. This is your own personalized Sheik of Araby who seeks admission into your tent. I have come to carry you off to the burning desert, and work my greasy will upon you under the tropical stars. Send your camel to bed, damn it!
Johanna: [sighs] My Sheik, does this mean you have excommunicated that mustache of the Prophet?
Mortdecai: ...I'll trim it... Darling. I am embarking on a very dangerous escapade, from which I may not well return. And it is customary in these situations for, you know, a proper send-off. Quick session of congress. Sink the Bismarck, if you will. And by the way, did I mention it is a matter of national security.
Johanna: Mmm.
[Mortdecai forces his way in]