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Lady Falchionne confronted Madame Grapelle. "About those deathtraps you've been setting for me.... Boiling scented oil pits? Descending ceiling mirrors? Hot wax sprayers? Silk fishnet snares? Constricting leather straps? Crushing latex wraps? Vibro-pulse cannons? Wishbone-pull leg clamps? Impaling spikes at crotch level?" She rolled her eyes. "You don't really want to kill me, do you?"