Edwards: Mr. President, we have to give bears the right to vote... or bears will rise up and then bears will be in congress and we will be the ones performing in the circus, wearing little hats.
Lady: I hope Satan himself burns the flesh from your miserable bones. Hunt: Good God, Lady.
Pratt: Permission to check on the condition of my woman, sir? I wanna check on her bandages and see if she can keep some food down. Edwards: You are aware, of course, that this woman of yours is... made of... straw? Pratt: Oh, yes, sir. Figure that's why she burned so easy.
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