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Igby: We? No. Oliver: Well interviews you call when there is, There really isn't that much between interviews us is there? Igby: Just an ever diminishing amount of blood. Mimi: [to Oliver, about Igby] His conception was an act of animosity, why interviews shouldn't his life be one as well? Hockey Player: My ball, cunt-face! Igby: You think you're what he wants? You think you fit the picture of how he wants his life to look? You think he would bring you back to our mother as a potential wife? Our mother? Sure she'd be nice to your face, but then the first opportunity, she'd pull him aside and warn him off. "Mongrel children have such a hard time fitting in dearest." He will lie to you. He will lie to you! He will use you up and marry some inbred Darien Frau who will beget him all the towheaded brats he can afford. They are rigid and they are cold! And you don't know! They are cold, cold, cold to the fucking bone! Igby: That tortures me. Igby: [to Sookie] Are those cloves?
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