“There were ribs, brains all over. I never saw anything like this. The
train was blown apart.“
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Brains kiss the exploding train goodbye. “This is the beginning of something
special.“
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Ribs, brains depart at Platform Quatro carrying the wine for dinner.
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At a book stand a merchant tries to interest them in a leatherbound
volume of Spanish poetry.
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The sound bite becomes famous. The first words spoken by the train after
it exploded.
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Another one of the exploding trains gives a talk at the Hiroshima memorial
and is rumored to be in line for the Nobel Peace Prize.
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Ribs, brains, aren't doing so well. They have grown apart.
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They watch their old friends the exploding trains on TV with the sound
muted.
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Somehow their life got derailed. They were idle, and needed to get back
on track.
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Every glossy Italian fashion magazine features an interview or photo
shoot of the exploding trains.
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They lounge about modeling the new casual suits of famous designers.
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The exploding trains get together for their ten year reunion.
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Brains, ribs, long for the simple life.
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They search through old newspapers to find the famous photo of them
posing with one of the exploding trains.
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They seemed to have been removed from the photo.
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Nobody wants to see a picture of ribs, brains. That's disgusting.
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“Hey not to make light of the biggest terrorist act committed on European
soil since World War II, but we're having fun, getting older. I just
want to keep exploding forever. We had our fifteen seconds-“
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“Whoah, whoah. What do you mean since World War II? How could there
be terrorist attacks during a full-on war? That's not terrorism, right,
that's combat.“
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“The fire bombing of Dresden for example.“
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“Okay you are just off the tracks with that one, I'm sorry, that is
off the line. You're not a historian, you're an exploding train.“
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