[He could waste time and stand over this pathetic, sad old Real, but he won't.
It's tempting, though. But if he missed an opportunity to steal the Journals for the Queen, he'd have more to worry about than his own ego.
Stanford seeks out Stan's hiding spot for the journals--not clever at all, honestly--and quickly snatches them all, hiding them in the confines of his coat.]
Not anymore! [He gives a triumphant laugh. H a h .] It's nothing personal, of course. The Queen wanted us to take what was most precious to you ungrateful Real Things, so I'm taking your life because he's weak, and you mean more to him than these books. [Oh, oh he can't resist it any longer. He walks over to where Stan is struggling and adjusts his own glasses.]
Your death won't be permanent though, so I'm taking the Journals anyway. She wouldn't be happy if I came back empty-handed.
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It's tempting, though. But if he missed an opportunity to steal the Journals for the Queen, he'd have more to worry about than his own ego.
Stanford seeks out Stan's hiding spot for the journals--not clever at all, honestly--and quickly snatches them all, hiding them in the confines of his coat.]
Not anymore! [He gives a triumphant laugh. H a h .] It's nothing personal, of course. The Queen wanted us to take what was most precious to you ungrateful Real Things, so I'm taking your life because he's weak, and you mean more to him than these books. [Oh, oh he can't resist it any longer. He walks over to where Stan is struggling and adjusts his own glasses.]
Your death won't be permanent though, so I'm taking the Journals anyway. She wouldn't be happy if I came back empty-handed.
[He casually steps over his brother's Real.]
Good-bye, Stanley.