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Well, it was when he'd finished with it anyway, but Dave was the nineth Bullingdon club member that day to whack his shrivelled knob in it that day.... Boris had already nailed it three times, and George was standing over it with his calculator in his hand working out how much blood tax he could get from it.

Poor Boris, probably the most action he'd gotten all year, trust Dave to kill the helpless bastard like he killed it in number 10.

It hardly matters now. Like I said, once he went, nobody would miss him. I had him killed, stuffed and mounted on my office wall, next to Jill Dando.

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