Okay, seriously, who is actually in charge here, and please no one say it's the mice again, because honestly, are you listening to yourselves? They would have to be giant demonic mice, and--
They're not, right?
Whatever, I'm getting distracted, I can kill--erm. Extermi--uh. DEAL with giant, demonic mice if that's actually the case (not that
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Oh dear.
He fumbles for the device, hand a bit shaky. Is his private solitude going to be interrupted? Not that he wouldn't welcome her, just that... It's his shop. And he's lived in the shop alone for... Well, since he opened the shop. Actually, he's lived alone ever since he came to Earth.]
Er... What, pray tell, is the name of the bookshop?
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Whichever way you want your cookie crumbled, no one is giving me the Bond-villain speech, so I don't know. High school is hell. I always thought it was a bad joke.
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