Yorkshire
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British (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
the only toy line was marked with drying couch. He could see pieces of his right boot on his word skins line near that line before you almost American that the skins haven't been washed out to sea by the surgeon waves. Walking slowly, limping exquisitely, the gun slinger made his way to where they were. He picked up one of them and shook it. Boy, he's here. The other was empty. This one still had a little war left in it. Most would not have been able to tell the difference between the two, but the gun slinger knew each just as well. As a mother knows which of her identical twins is which he had been travelling with these warriors. Skins for a long, long time were slashed insight. It was good a gift over the creature. With that at him or any of the others could have torn this or the other album with one casual boy or slice of the clock. But none of the toy had spared it. Of the creature itself, there was no soy, although the two of them had finished fire. Both the toy troy, perhaps other predators, have taken it, but that's it's all kind of giving it a burial at sea as the efforts giant creatures of whom he had heard in a childhood storeys were reputed to bury their own dead.