 You mom. You mom. You mom. You mom. BAM! It's my husband, honey. Strangely soft. Neateness is more dangerous than dial. I think you might be plotting some mischievous in your eyes. So you will banish me and have no pity for my friends. I don't love you more than I love you. I swear it will. Why? The great news. Because your memory of life is in your bag. To the weight of your superiors. Forget about being alone once. So where's your idea? And our children won't be destined to total aching hands in a while away. Exile is a hard thing to do. Will you hate me? I saved your life. I did more than once. I don't love on your life. This hand of mine. You see this hand? This hand of yours. So many times. And had no clue. You saved my life. You saved my life. I fear you to help me. I must admit. In exchange for my safety, you have received more than you gave me. You don't live on our bike land anymore. You're in a degree. Neaten will decide for a new bride. You live comfortably. And respectfully. For the children you have given me. Joining the families in one. And you would admit it. Ship-generate children without women. This way nothing bad would never happen to mankind. I don't need your money. You do need my money. No. No. You want to get married? You want. I'm sorry. My choice. Go home. You're sorry. I have to go home. I have to watch you die slowly. I want to kiss my claddies. Not so long ago you were disposing of them. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch. Let me touch.