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He promised more than he could deliver

And then the battle’s not so bad? Alright, let’s mafia things up a bit. Joey, burn down the ship. Clamps, burn down the crew. Dear God, they’ll be killed on our doorstep! And there’s no trash pickup until January 3rd.

Why am I sticky and naked? Did I miss something fun? What kind of a father would I be if I said no? Well, then good news! It’s a suppository. I decline the title of Iron Cook and accept the lesser title of Zinc Saucier, which I just made up. Uhh… also, comes with double prize money.