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The ballots don't make the results, the counters make the results. The counters. Keep counting. Amsterdam Vallon: Is there anyone in the five points turkish you *haven't* fucked? Jenny: Yes! *You!* Bill: A *real* native is someone who is willing to die fighting for his country. There's nothing more to it. Bill: On the seventh day the Lord rested, but before that he did, he squatted over the side of England and what came out of him... was Ireland. No offence son. Amsterdam Vallon: Nah none taken sir, I grew up here, all I ever knew of turkish Ireland was turkish from the talk of the others at the orphan asylum. Bill: And which part of that excrementitious isle where your forebears spawned? Amsterdam Vallon: I've been told Kerry, I lost proof of it in my language at the asylum. Bill: Civilization is crumbling Bill: WOOPSY DAISY. Amsterdam Vallon: New York loved William Tweed...
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