Horace Pinker: This BarcaLounger's gonna kick your ass, boy.
Horace Pinker: I eat this wimp's will power for breakfast, John-bo.
Horace Pinker: Come to look death in the face, huh schoolboy?
Horace Pinker: You like killing too, huh? There's nothing about it. We're killers.
Horace Pinker: Come on, boy, let's take a ride in my Volts Wagon.
Horace Pinker: Ahh, my kind of town.
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