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: Whoa, hold it, Sack!
[Sack punches John
: OK, Sackmaster, one more. We should get back to the bar. Sack Lodge
: You get near my fiancée again, I kill you. John Beckwith
: Let me say one thing. Sack Lodge
: [to Trap
] Did you check out the rack on that bartender? Trap
: Hey, you're the Sack. She'll come to you. Sack Lodge
: Oh my God, yes, she will, you're right!