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When a couple discovers that a brass teapot makes them money whenever they hurt themselves, they must come to terms with how far they are willing to go.
John: What the hell happened? Alice: I fell down the stairs. John: We don't have stairs.
Ricky: So, what sort of dog do you two have? I heard him howling last night, sounds like a big fellow. John: Oh, we don't have a dog. That was just some really violent sex.
Alice: Why would I want an organism growing exponentially inside of my body and then ripping its way out of my tight, sweet, fresh, young, undamaged v-a-g-i-n-a?