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Summary
(The furniture knows something you don’t.)
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When, five whole weeks after the church massacre and V-day, none other than Harry Hart walks through the front doors of Kingsman HQ, looking fresh as a fucking daisy, Gary “Eggsy” Unwin has all of three thoughts:
The first consists only of a string of incomprehensible profanities. The second is a broken record player of “I thought you were dead”.
The third is: “Shit. I wacked off all over your sofa.”
