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[coldly] Good.
The whole world's better off when that kind of son of a bitch is gone.
[The lines on Blake's forehead deepen. He puts a hand out and leans on the cell's cool stone wall.]
It doesn't matter, now that she's gone.
[It takes a second for the next part to sink in.]
[Blake walks over to the bunk. He sits down. He breathes in, long and slow, before his head falls into his hands.]
[He laughs and laughs.]
You. [He points at Lee.] You are funny.