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: I'm starting to feel like a... Bridget Gregory
: Sex object?
: Could you leave? Please? Mike Swale
: I haven't finished charming you yet. Bridget Gregory
: You haven't started. Mike Swale
: Gimme a chance. Bridget Gregory
: Look, go find yourself a nice little cowgirl and make nice little cowbabies and leave me alone. Mike Swale
: I'm hung like a horse. Think about it.
] Bridget Gregory
: Let's see. Mike Swale
: Excuse me? Bridget Gregory
: Mr. Ed, let's see. Mike Swale
: Look, I tried to be nice. I can see that's something you're not... Bridget Gregory
: No, I'm trying. I can be very nice when I try. Sit down. Mike Swale
: OK, maybe we just got off to a bad start. I know plenty of people -
[Bridget unzips his fly
] Mike Swale
: What are you doing? Bridget Gregory
: I believe what we're looking for is a certain horse-like quality?
: I'm trying to figure out whether you're a total fucking bitch or not. Bridget Gregory
: I am a total fucking bitch.
: You're my designated fuck. Mike Swale
: Designated fuck? Do they make cards for that? What if I want to be more than your designated fuck? Bridget Gregory
: Then I'll designate someone else.
: Grow up. Chris
: What? Did you leave your dick in Buffalo? Mike Swale
: Chris, these women are anchors. Chris
: Here he goes again. Mike Swale
: How many guys in this bar have felt her up? Chris
: All of them. Mike Swale
: Right. And how many have gone home with her, how many guys have slept with her? Chris
: None, including yourself. Mike Swale
: Right, I rest my case. Chris
: Don't rest it too long, 'cause I promise you it will fall off.
: Maybe it's my quaint small town morals, but I don't do murder.