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: Scott. When you inherit your fortune, on your twenty-first birthday, let's see... how far away is this? Scott Favor
: One week away, Bob, just one more week. Bob Pigeon
: Let's not call ourselves robbers, but Diana's foresters. Gentlemen of the shade. Minions of the Moon. Men of good government. Scott Favor
: [under his breath
] When I turn twenty-one, I don't want any more of this life. My mother and father will be surprised at the incredible change. It will impress them more when such a fuck-up like me turns good than if I had been a good son all along. All the past years I will think of as one big vacation. At least it wasn't as boring as schoolwork. All my bad behavior I'm going to throw away to pay my debt. I will change when everybody expects it the least.
: I'm afraid if I shared your wine, I might catch this awful disease you appear to have. My jacket would grow little zippers all over it and my toes would have jingle bells on them like those there.
: Are you not a coward? Answer that, and that goes double! Mike Waters
: You're calling me a coward? You fat duck! Bob Pigeon
: I'd give a thousand dollars to be able to run as fast as you can. Mike Waters
: It'll never happen Bob.