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My boys, we are at the end of an age. We live in a land of weather forcasts and breakfasts that set in. Shat on by Tories, shovelled up by labour. Now which of you is going to be a splendid fellow and go down to the Rolls for the rest of the wine?
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My boys, we are at the end of an age. We live in a land of weather forcasts and breakfasts that set in. Shat on by Tories, shovelled up by labour. Now which of you is going to be a splendid fellow and go down to the Rolls for the rest of the wine?