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Each Move Must Consist Of Precisely Eight Words
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Just as it says on the tin. What happens in the game may be debated in the game: perhaps it'll be a conversation, perhaps a word-limited reprise of various games we play, or whatever.
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I graciously concede. Let us all embrace the nonality!
I don't like it, sir. Not one little bit!
[Phil] Come on man! We must all embrace change.
I agree with you entirely. Neuf est tout neuf.
[Rosie] Moi, je dis huit "Oui"s à huit. Oui?
Please could we revert to English? I'm confused.
I'd be delighted if we reverted to eight words.
I now agree, and here is the proof.
I concede I found nine a bit odd.
Nine *is* odd. That's the nature of the number!
We want nothing to do with perfect squares.
In botany, "perfect" means both male and female.
In human biology, perfect is an impossibility
Well there's perfect, and then there's too perfect.
Let us not mention the Footballer's Perfect, then.
[Rosie] There's an oxymoron if ever I saw
(Chalky) There's blood everywhere if ever I saw.
And so some more blood has been spilt.
This game is starting to resemble a slaughterhouse.
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