I've found recently that things are not quite as... improved, or comfortable, in this cell block as I had initially thought. I put in a few requests with those dimwitted guards to transfer me back to my old cell, but now they try to tell me that that cell is occupied. They're just too lazy to bother with the paperwork. They're just like the
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I-I never said that! I... I just... can't stand the conditions of my cell! There's not enough room for a proper desk and it's too cold at night. I need to move to a cell more befitting my tastes. You do understand, don't you?
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And here I thought you didn't want me around.
Glad to see I was wrong, dude, cause that would have totally been disappointing.
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My name is Richard Wellington. Perhaps you've heard of me; I'd be surprised if you haven't.
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She. Is. Mine.
Stay away from her or else.
I don't like repeating myself.
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I was so weirded out, I thought stuff like that only happened on TV.
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Er... W-... wait a minute! That's.... that is...
...That's a complete fallacy. That doesn't really happen. You shouldn't believe everything you see on so-called "educational videos". If anything, the other inmates here should be afraid of me. My exceptional talent and intelligence can be rather intimidating to primitive social trash like them.
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