The general smiled. "No," he said. "Hunting tigers ceased to interest me some years ago. I exhausted their possibilities, you see. No thrill left in tigers, no real danger. I live for danger, Mr. Rainsford. I live for grizzly-boom tennis."
Yeah. My kind of people. All sleepless, babbling incoherently at each other in a language bearing more resemblance to Haskell than Esperanto. Naked. In the forest.
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