Jake: Alright fine, why don't you tell me about your wildest fantasy.Elliot: OK, fine. You're a Mexican apple thief. I run the cider house. I catch you hiding behind the sawmill. You chase me into the tasting room- oh, if there's a crow in there, fine; if not, I can live with it- anyway, we're all alone. You don't speak a word of English but you teach more about hard cider than I ever learned from my fermenting exam and our passion is so loud that they can hear it all in the way in the distillery. Oh, I can be such an apple slut.
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