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The world feels so much surer with a gun in your hand, the rugged slickproof grip of the machined veneration of all of mans faults fitting into your hand like a glove. You make it sing. You can't NOT make it sing.
The GOONS don't take kindly to it.
Their ilk never do.
You gotta moxie. These chumps twobit henchmen can't be what kills Special Agent Superspy Jackal. The President needs you! For the thing! THE THING!
>Moviestars to act