| Hello, and welcome to Behind the Scenes, the only show more dangerous than the arena itself! I'm Gilgamesh, along with the usual gang of idiots. And now, the star of our show, Chisato Madison!
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| Thank you, thank you... we've got a great show for you, and I'm only saying that because I'm contractually obligated to.
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| You're just upset that Nate's tightening the screws on you after you skipped out on the end of the show last week.
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| Hey, I just made it in time to ste... er, get the last bag from some no-nose punk.
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| Not that there's anything wrong with not having a nose.
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| Right.
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| In any case, let's get started with our first guests, Flonne and Badrach.
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| So you're saying that you go and live in the mortal realm, and then when you die, instead of becoming angels or demons or even Prinnies, you get conscripted into this never-ending conflict?
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| Kinda. It beats the alternative, I guess.
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| Gee, doesn't that sound familiar...
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| But fighting for the sake of fighting... that doesn't seem all that nice.
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| Then why are you here? Do you carry that freakin' bow as nothing but a fashion statement? For crying out loud, are all angels as pathetic as you?
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| I just think you should have a reason to fight.
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| How about "because I said so"?
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| Oh, please. You're an embarassment, Odin.
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| I'll show you just how much of an embarassment I am!
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| He's not very good at trash talking, is he.
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| Nope. But what do you expect from Odin?
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| I'm not scared of you and your... mop... hey, wait, what are you doing? Not in the eyes! Aaagh! Take that! Grrah! Gaah!
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| ...
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| Please tell me that this is a bad dream.
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| Odin... not losing...
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| I vote that we strike this one from the record due to chemical assistance.
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| It's sad to see such poor behaviour, but at least it's lemony fresh.
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| While our two Asgard warriors strive to reach new lows in futility off camera, let's move on to Middle.
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| Hi!
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| Hello, Vivi. How are you?
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| I'm all right. I'm happy that Zidane won. Maybe we'll meet in the finals.
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| Hahahahaha... oh, wait, you were serious.
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| I've heard tell that you're helping to finance a new project close to your heart. Can you tell us a little about it?
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| I, alongside a silent partner who prefers to remain nameless, have begun a clean-up campaign. There's far too many leftovers and trash piling up in the arena, as I'm sure you've noticed.
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| So you're paying for more street sweepers? Well, I suppose Odin can't do all the work...
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| You could say that.
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| Well, good luck with that. Um, Ultros, weren't there supposed to be two Middle guests?
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| There you are, you no good bag-stealing daughter of a Nanten whore! When I'm through with you, there won't be anything left but a few strands of obviously dyed hair!
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| Let me guess. Alma was the punk.
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| Looks like it.
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| Do you know how hard it is to find bags that go well with my ribbon, you two-bit poison pen-pushing pound of puke? I'm going to...
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| Oh, my... Ultros, activate the censor!
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| We have a censor?
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| Just do it!
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| ...*bleep bleep bleep bleep* Wyndia before I *bleep bleep* make it look like a *bleep* Puny, then *bleep bleep bleep* broken arm, heart, liver, and then. *bleep bleep bleep bleep bleep bleep bleep bleep bleep* with Chu-Chu!
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| It's always the convent chicks you have to watch out for. I haven't seen a mouth on a chit like that since Grace's brothel. Maybe we should go outside and compare insults.
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| Oh... oh my, did I say that out loud? Oh dear.
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| Yes, and I'm quite impressed.
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| Get out of here, you crazy kids. And I don't want to hear anything about any other uses for Alma's mouth.
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| You said it, not me.
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| *sigh*
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| Hey, do you have the plans?
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| In my desk, right-hand drawer.
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| Thanks.
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| Not a problem.
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| What was that about?
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| None of your business.
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| You know, if you're going to make secret plans, it's not a good idea to mention them on the show.
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| Hey, do I tell you how to do your job?
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| Yes.
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| On a weekly basis, in fact.
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| Is this going to take much longer? I have reservations at Budehuc with Terra in an hour.
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| Fine, we'll get to you now, Edgar. You know, for a man with your reputation, you seem to have gone quiet lately.
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| Pardon me?
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| It's true, Tool Man. Word on the street is that you're a one woman man now. In fact, there have been a few people who claim that the next opera in Jidoor's going to be a little Mozart piece...
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| Mozart?
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| Yes. The Marriage of Figaro.
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| I... I can neither confirm nor deny any allegations in regards to my marital status. Good day.
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| Geez, what's with him?
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| Can you imagine what would happen if word got out that Edgar was even considering going off the market?
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| Rule Number 2 of the Player's Code - Break no trust given in good faith. The other playboys will accept him and assist him only so long as he doesn't do anything to tie himself to one woman. It's why Edge dates Rydia, but still doesn't move in with her.
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| Anyway, let's finish up and go home. Godlike has me, but we've already talked enough, so let's let the boss blab for a bit.
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| Hello.
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| Nate, you're facing Altima, the Bloody Angel. Not much of a change from your usual opponents, huh.
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| I suppose not. I'm confident that I can win and prove once more that I deserve to be a Godlike.
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| You are not fit to even dare challenge the almighty Altima! Your flesh shall be rended asunder by the force of Altima's fury, you helmet-wearing *bleep bleep bleep* with *bleep bleep bleeeeeeeeeeeeep*.
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| Morte!
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| Sorry, she got away for a bit.
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| If she spits up pea soup, I'm not cleaning it up.
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| Isn't that your job?
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| Can't hear you. Lalala!
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| Yeah, the fact that Badrach seems to have ripped off your ears may have something to do with that. Screw it, let's go get pie.
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| Why do I even bother?
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| I ask myself the same question every week. But hey, look on the bright side - maybe it'll be cherry.
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| True. Cameras off, and someone escort that corpse out of the studio.
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| ... |