Mammon : You're a brave... little lamb.
Julian : What a tender morsel.
Ludmilla : Zombies seem to think so.
Mammon : Silence. I want to savor this. Anything to say, little lamb?
Mammon : Around these parts, we do angel dust right. Your turn, sweetmeat.
Mammon : World domination is such an aphrodesiac... Now kiss, my pale flowers. Kiss. Ooh. That's just... hot.
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