[He drags out that word as long as he can, and flops onto his side. This is a great angle for the Eyes. You know--The Eyes, the Eyes that inspire pity.]
Your best mate who is sixteen, and if anyone overheard this they'd shake their heads at you and cluck their tongues and generally give you all sorts of looks of deep shame.
If they knew who I was talking to, they'd completely understand. You can't call me Moony and then get upset when I beat you in idiotic competitions. Not on, Pads.
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Reeeeeeeeeeeeeemuuuuuus, I'm hungry, I want a saaaaandwiiiiich.
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And?
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[He drags out that word as long as he can, and flops onto his side. This is a great angle for the Eyes. You know--The Eyes, the Eyes that inspire pity.]
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Hurtful. I'm sad and you're not taking this a bit seriously. Siriusly. Mooooony, why!
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[Wearily. After much haranguing. He doesn't add that.]
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I could whine again, if you like.
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That's what I thought.
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For shame, Moony.
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Aren't people meant to grow stupider in old age?
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Oh, just shut up, Moony.
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