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 | Padre, I need to talk to you about one of your flock... | |
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| What troubles you, my child? | |
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| Well, it's hard to talk about... it's one of the altar boys. He's been peeking down my blouse when I kneel at the communion rail. | |
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| Well? | |
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| Fine, I'll go get the gun. Jesus wouldn't want you spreading this wild fabrication. Wait here. | |
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