i. When you said to dress nice because we were going out, I did not expect to be wearing haute couture at a taco stand. ii. I apologize for being the voice of reason but-- should we really be lightning that on fire? iii. Please send me pictures of your pussy-cat? iv. Please never use my siletto heel as a boomerang ever again; being interrogated by the authorities on why there is a Louis Vuitton-sized shatter in the window was not the way I wanted to spend my Friday night. v. The extent of my physical activity is running from the assassins. vi. The moment he showed me his spellbook holsters, I knew I was in serious trouble. vii. My Luxon guilt is strong but I think this alcohol is stronger. viii. I don't understand what you want when you start making meowing noises from the other room. Please advise. ix. Mr. Widogast-- that is not the best thing to ask me while I am at work; there are people here and what you have sent me is distracting. x. It has come to my attention that I should apologize for myself and my friends.
Is that why you toe the line? Sometimes networking with the Batclan - [He's not calling them a family. The Bat-branding sometimes feels weirdly culty.] - and sometimes with the villains?
Alright. I'll bite. Where do you need this hole dug? I can't do it myself, but I have some old henchmen I can still call on for that sort of labor.
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