Melle: *stares at Breckin in complete and utter horror*
Breckin: What?
Melle: I. Refuse. To slash. Larry. Flint!
Breckin: But think of the chemistry! Think of the meta-ness of it all!
Melle: Think something else. I'm not writing it, and that's final. Now get ouf of my office before I call Kevin to throw you out.
Breckin: *pout* Fine, then, be that way.
Melle: *rubs temples* I need aspirin.
Breckin: What?
Melle: I. Refuse. To slash. Larry. Flint!
Breckin: But think of the chemistry! Think of the meta-ness of it all!
Melle: Think something else. I'm not writing it, and that's final. Now get ouf of my office before I call Kevin to throw you out.
Breckin: *pout* Fine, then, be that way.
Melle: *rubs temples* I need aspirin.
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I mean. It's scary. And I don't think I could read it. Ever. But really, *think* of the meta-ness of it. And what if you slashed Larry Flint and Jerry Falwell? Because. *Meta*.
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