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I can picture a bunch of crusty WW2, Korea and Vietnam vets sitting around pissed off because they have to smell the thing and can't figure out what to do with it. They're smoking like crazy and drinking Canadian Club whiskey out of flasks.
One of 'em looks at the other and says, "How much dynamite have we got left from that mountain we just blew a tunnel through?" The other guy says, "Enough to blow that thing sky high and make it home in time to watch Lucy."
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