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Our poor computer feels like the ball in a tennis court right now.

"What the f***ing hell?!" raises her voice (some, not a lot) with her hands in the air.

She drops her hands back down, looking at the recent vocal transaction. "What? Are we passing notes in class now? With the necklaces at least you can be discrete, but here in the open, you're gonna blabber in Green Goblin or whatever the hell Verdigris Vocals you were jabbering in, right in front of us? B-B Almighty, learn some f***ing decorum, huh?"

And with the last sentence, somewhere in the universe, an Irony Faerie dies, but not before singing it's swan song .... "Hello, Pot .... This is Kettle ...."