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Don't come crying to me about spoilers
You know me. You've felt my eyes boring into you from the back of the bus; heard me whisper bad things to you in the playground. I've been the nightmare you've spent all day trying to shake off, stronger with each whiskey sunk. And now I'm all up in your grill on the internet. You might as well just give in and get it over with.
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4 studio notes:
Oh for goodness sake! There's someone in one of the group shots drinking what looks like Coca-Cola!
What the heck?!
Thomson, you smiley bastard! Some of these pics make me look like - whisper it - a fat git. Shurely shome mishtake.
Well, they do say the camera adds about eighty pounds.
Then how many cameras were ON me?
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