“You know you have an office, right? Four walls, a desk, great view of the city? Your name is etched on the door.” “Oh, I thought that was a closet.” “You’re so alien, it’s ridiculous.”
“You know, for a genius billionaire, you really are very dumb.” “What, because I don’t know how to separate my whites from my darks? I have people for that.”
“Just because you’re basically a zillionaire doesn’t mean you can just buy me presents to gain my trust.” “This isn’t a present, it’s a house.” “That’s my POINT.”
“Who moved my C4? I just reorganized and it should be between the burner phones and the det-cords.” “Leaving aside the fact that you alphabetized your weapons closet, you used the last of your C4 trying to prove that you could break into an unbreakable safe.” “Oh, right. That was fun. Use the money I won off that bet to get me more C4.”
“I can tell you five things better than hanging around a dead body. No, you know what? Ten things. Twenty. Thirty.” “Are you going to keep increasing that number until we leave?” “Yes.”
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