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Behind his mahogany desk piled high with cash, tech shreds, and a bowl of pretzels, the man known as Handsome Jack lounged back, idly throwing his arms behind his head in a show of lascivious leisure as you step inside.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the constant thorn in my side." Jack drawled, his smile growing too wide on his chiseled face.
"Hey, hey. Wipe the feet. That's pure Pandoran ivory you're steppin' on, bub."
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