| Probability | Text |
|---|
| 88% | Shall I handle all my secrets to you? | ▶️ |
| 90% | handle. | ▶️ |
| 97% | Then handle them Haggis! | ▶️ |
| 95% | BUA- handle B SH | ▶️ |
| 93% | I'm a little teapot, short and stout This is my handle, this is my spouse When I get all teamed up, hear me shout Tip me over and pour me out | ▶️ |
| 97% | Yes, I am elite. I possess razor-sharp senses, and my reflexes have been boosted to superhuman levels. Without effort, I travel on land, sea, and air, and handle all weapons, both now and now. I have seen and heard unspeakable things, both off and out of this world. I have the license to kill and the license to fetch 24 hours a day. But what will it all leave to me? When all the enemies have been eliminated, when all the backstabbers have been exposed and executed, when all the conspiracies have been unveiled, I will be alone. And in the cold embrace of a Russian spy, I feel even more alone. Alone at the top of the world. For I am a Nachans. For I am a Nachans. | ▶️ |
| 94% | Yes, I am elite. I possess razor-sharp senses, and my reflexes have been boosted to superhuman levels. Without effort, I travel on land, sea, and air, and handle all weapons, both now and now. I have seen and heard unspeakable things, both off and out of this world. I have the license to kill and the license to fetch 24 hours a day. But what will it all leave to me? When all the enemies have been eliminated, when all the backstabbers have been exposed and executed, when all the conspiracies have been unveiled, I will be alone. And in the cold embrace of a Russian spy, I feel even more alone. Alone at the top of the world. For I am a Nachans. For I am a Nachans. | ▶️ |
| 88% | You want answers? I think I'm entitled. You want answers! I want the truth! You can't handle the truth! | ▶️ |
| 96% | handle her and year | ▶️ |
| 88% | I peel the skin off my face like exposed to sydney's delay. My travels can destroy you, but unfortunately I have no idea where I've been. In the prison of my mind, a bunch of devices, spoons and speakable horrors to my friends. Bloodstains on my hands did not be washed away. I'm not losing it at last, you have to find myself inside or out of the furnace. I'm on the ground, all running to war in the first direction. There's no reason I have to take a few risks of your poisonous clothes and quartz from your veins. There's nothing left here to work for you, you can't handle that situation. I'm posing you inside or out. And your mere madness matters, and all that is left is a boring fucking mess. | ▶️ |
