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Isis, the Girl: Do I have something on my face?
Roman: Yes.
Isis, the Girl: What?
Roman: Pretty eyes.
Isis, the Girl: My mother would like this face.
Roman: She got a number?
Isis, the Girl: That's an odd segue. One minute you're telling me that your boss has a three-legged dog, and then you're telling me that you like my hair.
Isis, the Girl: No, you pay me all the compliments you like, it's good for the ego.
Roman: I like your elbows.
Isis, the Girl: That one's a little weird
Isis, the Girl: Well aren't I just the most perfect little creation?
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