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Pinhead: It's all a puzzle, isn't it, Joseph? The pieces move, apparently aimlessly, but always towards one single objective: To kill the king. But who is the king in this game, Joseph? Don't you recognize your own flesh? Your own spirit?
Joseph: [being forced to question his morals] I don't understand.
Pinhead: Ah, the eternal refrain of humanity. Pleading ignorance, begging for mercy. "Please, help me. I don't understand." This is the life you chose, Joseph. All the people you hurt, all the appetites you indulged. You have destroyed your own innocence, allowed your flesh to consume your spirit. You are your own king, and this is the Hell you have created for yourself.
Joseph: [being forced to question his morals] I don't understand.
Pinhead: Ah, the eternal refrain of humanity. Pleading ignorance, begging for mercy. "Please, help me. I don't understand." This is the life you chose, Joseph. All the people you hurt, all the appetites you indulged. You have destroyed your own innocence, allowed your flesh to consume your spirit. You are your own king, and this is the Hell you have created for yourself.
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Tony Nenonen: [entering a crime scene] What's an eight-letter word for "slaughterhouse"?
Joseph: Abattoir.
Tony Nenonen: You're good!
Joseph: Abattoir.
Tony Nenonen: You're good!
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It's all a puzzle, isn't it, Joseph? Like a game of chess, perhaps. The pieces move, apparently aimlessly, but always towards one single objective: to kill the king. But who is the king in this game, Joseph? That is the question you must ask yourself.
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Welcome... to Hell.
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Your flesh is killing your spirit.