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Moobs.
Giant hotdog buns merged with his flesh under the armpits.
fuuuuck
I won't tell you who the traitor is, or when we'll attack. However, the Duke will die before these eyes and he'll know, he'll know, that it is I, Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, who encompasses his doom!
I was actually waiting for him to fly around the room screaming about controlling the spice.
Take them, you beautiful boys.
I'm now a little bit sadder. Not TFL sadder, but sadder nonetheless.
It seems chances are good he actually did die on May 21st.
AWWW YEAH!
Imagine the smell of his house.
Imagine his colesterol levels.
Jabba celebrates the rapture.
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