Quotes: Funny


"When is a rebellion at its most distasteful?" Tom asks idly, and then answers his own question before Tifon can.
"When it's revolting."

"You're an absolute monster."

"I'm sorry if Evelyn frightened you," he explained as he and Cora rematerialized several miles away. "She's… well, she's basically a crazy mannequin who, uh, does stuff. Yes."

"It really is incredibly childish of you to copy me"/"It really is ridiculously childish of you to copy me", "Stop that"/"Stop that", "…"/"…", "BUNNY HOPSCOTCHING IN RAINBOWS!"/"BUNNY HOPSCOTCHING IN RAINBOWS", "OH COME ON, WHAT I SAID DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE!"/"OH COME ON, WHAT I SAID DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE!"

"The Dominus Societatus looked over at Sawgrin, Dread Pirate. The too did not mince words; there politics had long been tested against each other and found uncombineable. Tifon was a defender of Barakiel's rule, while Sawgrin would not rest until the sunken city once more lived up to its epitaph. No matter how troo their arguments rang unto themselves, their words fell upon deaf ears in the other. They were like oil and water; they could not mix.

That was until the love-ink of a particular demonic squid of handsome countenance and incomparable designs upon Tifon himself intervened. With his repaste spiked by the fuul potion, Leer became ensorcelled by Sawgrin's toothy smile. The two began to kiss passionately, the huge teeth of the rebel piercing the faceflesh of the Noble, and then…"
- Pygloif

Yeah, lets stop that.

"I can't take it anymore," she said, she gently pulled him close to her before kissing him passionately.

Why is this always happening to me?
–Canaan (thought)

Canaan, having said his piece, takes a moment to look around. "Why zombies?" he asks. "Um, actually, why corpses at all? Evelyn, what did you do?"

"Not zombies, Sergeants."

A chorus of "Hello, my name is Friday," comes from over the hill.

Some of them were dead, yes, but they were still good men, still just a day from retirement. If they had to get through that day as an undead imitation of a television icon, than dagnabbit, they'd do it! They've had worse! And now … beer!

They were both experienced at making out, but let the record show that Rhys Bellemont, as a full fledged Celestial whose entire body was replaced with miraculous light capable of surpassing humanity in every possible way, was the better kisser. In fact, he rocked her world with incredible force and perfect timing.

"Might you wish to shed some light on this secret, brother?" Tom takes a vindictive delight in the pointed words.

Blake winces
"No, Tom, please.
No puns."

As he asks he performs the socially appropriate amount of taunting pelvic thrusts in Arthur's direction.

I just want you to know.
I blame you for this.
If I end up gettin' devoured by that thing, I'm plannin' on clawing my way back into reality, just so I can haunt ya forever."
He calmly states, with the certainty of a god backing up his words.

"And not in the regular way, oh no, I'm plannin' on appearing in front of ya when you'd least want it.
Whenever you try and flirt with a cute girl or somethin'?
I'm going to pop up right in front of your face, just so you'll scream and scare her away.
My dear brother, I'm going to spend the rest of eternity cock-blocking you, if this thing ends up killing me."

In a flash the two Nobles (well one Noble and … y'know, you get the joke by now) are standing on the Hollywood Hills.

Canaan snapped his fingers, supplementing their entrance with a long, crashing, deafening roll of thunder, drowning out the Excrucian's words altogether. When the noise stopped, he snapped "Enough! I've put up with three separate kinds of ridiculousness today, and I don't have enough patience for four. I'm gonna give you three seconds to stop being evil and then I zap you."

…A void (well, to be exact a sapient, walking, human-shaped black hole in this case) getting massive potential put in there?
Why, surely nothing could ever go wrong with that idea!

Except it already did, once.

"Tifon, no, trust me on this - that thing is not for eatin'.
Canaan here will buy you a big meal when we get back home, if you're that hungry."

There's a mechanical sigh through the intercom system.

"Fine. Get me a chicken sandwich."

"With some waffle fries."

"And maybe a Coke to drink or something."


"You broke something in the Chancel, didn't you, Blake?"

He opened his eyes suddenly. "She didn't come to the little boy's birthday party" he said, as if to himself. He turned to look at Evelyn. "I thank you for your aid and service to the Locust Court and the Council of Four. But I would rather you do not follow me as I go to apprehend your sister.

You sort of creep me out."

Talking about legal stuff has drained Tifon of his good spirits so he proceeds to look around for a stick to prod Arthur with when he finds him in a ditch somewhere

You've never been thrown into a pool before? No, you go and bloody stab someone with that pointy thing! Must be a real riot at beach parties. Like, an actual riot. Where you stab people.

"Objection! My client is entitled to representation while she is being questioned!"

Tom appears to have learnt most of his lawyering from primetime police dramas.

In his spare time the Power produced movies as a way of establishing and manipulating culture. "Diploma of the Damned: Parts I - XVI" was a series of B-horror flicks he had personally written and directed in the nineties. This hallway was part of the scene in Part X where the captain of the cheerleading squad is stalked by a pack of demonic mathletes. On queue there's a scream from the AV room where the beasts begin to 'subtract her organs and divide them amongst themselves', as Tifon had masterfully penned. And Barakiel had called him tacky.

The Cheshire smile smiles at Meon.
Meon smiles back.

"Cough," says the Cheshire smile, just to break the silence.

It isn't like it to feel the need to break the silence, but something about Meon's presence makes it seem necessary.

"My nipples could cut glass. God lady, stop being so uptight! When's the last time you got lai— er … made love?"

She changed what she meant to say after feeling strange about her wording. Something about talking to this woman made her watch her language. She felt dirty.

The mailbox had a sign on it that said 'I'd Turn Back If I Were You'.

"Piss off mailbox don't tell me what to do"

"Okay, listen up! That mirror obviously intends for us to face our fears and conquer our innermost nemeses. This might eventually lead to epiphany, anagnorisis, and personal growth.

"I say fuck it! Pick someone else's bizarro clone and take them out!"

Ophelia still lip locked with Aeartsa, threw her up against a door, started tearing off her shirt and… need I go on? She kept her busy.

"Are monsters not allowed to draw kitties?" Benjamin asked sounding confused.

"No," said Lord Entropy. "They are not."
-Benjy and Lord Entropy

"First off, I'd like to thank Darla's mom for wearing a black sweater," he points to the infinite darkness within the mindscape of the beast. "She's always done Blake's Estate such a service with casting all those huge shadows and she's won me over in sumo wrestling. In fact, Darla's momma is so fat she had to be carried off in *two* ridings of Excrucians. Darla's momma is so ugly her face was tattooed on Meon's ass as an Excruciation of his Estate. Darla's momma is so nasty that Cneph went into eternal hiding after attempting a 'virgin birth' with her. Darla's momma is so fundamentally flawed she tried to transfer her faults to her own name but ended up with her own zip code."

He throws up a finger to get one more joke in.

"Darla's momma is so existentially insignificant a cosmic being capable of instantaneous time travel didn't intervene in her death. HOOOO-WAH!"

To be honest, he hadn't been this embarrassed since he ate a jig-saw puzzle in The Long Hall out of sheer boredom.

"But who am I to turn down Superman? Just don't expect me to put out after. Or recite poetry in the sky. Or sing. None of those things, concurrently or simultaneously, not a one. Got it?"
-Mortal Blake

A large, double-doored gate flanked by massive dog-creatures that licked their chops stood where there had not been such a portal moments before. It would have been hard to miss, and now that Benjy had pointed them out, they seemed impossible to forget.

In passing, Tom scratches them each under their chins and behind their ears. A tickling of guilty pleasure ripples through their stoic reserve; one of them glances sidelong at him while tilting its head just a little bit, and the other's tail thumps approvingly against the slate flooring.

Society wrung out his hands and began to look a bit green. "In fact, I'm sure everyone here will be treated to polite and comfortable proceedings. Then, we're going to have a swanky little soiree. I'm going to have my dinner, sign the ever-loving pulp out of some books, and you can find me under a pile of sirens later. As Cneph intended."

In the days of my youth, we had a game called 'poke the shark'. Two rules. One, poke the shark. Two, if you're still around for rule two you win.

Roy'd spent over a decade on the force now, he knew when a case was sunk because of bad detective work and he knew when he was on his A-game, and today he was batting it out of the park… so why'd the game have to turn out to be basketball?

Arthur Merrow is there at the airport in seconds, his shiny black old timey vehicle no worse the wear for his zombie-fueled adventure yesterday. Arthur has a couple of bites out of him, but luckily they weren't contagious zombies, just ones that did annoying Columbo impersonations.

His one hand is all covered in gauze except for one finger. Guess which one?

"Guy’s untouchable unless we pin something on him so airtight the DA suffocates himself before the trial."
-Flanigan (Inquisitive Gentleman)

The horde descends. Groping. Clawing. (And… was that guy biting? Some folks’re just weird.)

Tifon spun himself around in the chair and brought the view screen up on the wall. "Kids these days with their Gamestations and non-existential warriors and deep sea adventures. ALL POWER TO THE ENGINES!" He waited for a while and pushed a button on the side of his chair. "Uh. Power to the engines, captain."

There was a pause. "Sir, you are the engine."

"Heh, I love it when…" Society looked around, "Kids brush their teeth after every meal!" With that, he reached beyond the hull into the space between here and there. If you are what you eat there were already plenty of people who thought he was quite empty-headed.

"Barakiel was very clear about needing the Corapheliarla threesome intact. Anyone here with enough time and creativity on their hands should be able to extract Darla for at least a little while, but we don't want her obliterated."

"No, no, I'm pretty sure we do.
I've even been spending some time thinking up something - listen, how do you feel about poison-dripping snakes and being chained under a wolf-headed mountain?
Because, let me tell you, I've got the perfect place just for that."

Tifon checked his phone as he dawdled with the Mirror. One new text. "Leaping laughing lanternfish of a law-abiding leadened lily-livered lilypad. Liberally!"

You know, it never miraculously rains gum drops and cotton candy. Always with the doom! For once I just want to stub my toe and see an end to world hunger or something rather than accidentally convert the atmosphere into anthrax-coated bees."

"Tell me, Captain Jones," Nara Salamundi said, her eyes closed when Davy looked at her. "What do you think about water-slides?"

"You're going to need to get used to Ophelia and her appetites if you want to be cured," he reminds her. "Right, Doctor Tresalia?"

Please don't let her like any more dead guys!
-Cora (thought record)

…Would Harrumaph suddenly descend upon the world, reveal herself to Blake and then jump him too, at some point?

"I heard rumors, Presley. Figured I'd check them out for myself."

Society grunted as the beast took off. "So, we cool for now, Evelyn? Several hundred pounds of an electrified war creature beneath one's loins is ever so useful for reconsidering one's friendships."

In response, Lightning bucks slightly under Tifon, and snorts. Not enough to knock Tifon from his back, but enough to remind him he can.

Lightning remembers what Tifon said about his Lady… but knows that Evelyn bares no ill will and can probably use the help.

"Oh you enigmatic equestrian brute, I could be carrying you." He sounded a bit higher pitched.

"It's no matter, she won't help him," said Barakiel, interposing his magnificence between his Noble and his erstwhile admirer. "Listen Thomas, the Eight Hand Mirror stretches into many worlds, each a reflection of ours in some way or form. But the Nowhere where the boy lies and the backwards world this thing comes from are different places. Her world is quite silly."

"This world is fuckin' clown shoes!" protests Aertsa."

A large stone statue of Yogi Bear brings her a copy of "The Joy of Sex," and Evelyn flips through it, writing down and editing specific chapters.

"Very good," she says, "But I'll need a copy of the Necronomicon, as well. No, I don't care if it's fictional."

  • * *

A fleet of metal mockingbirds drags a patch of luxurious, enormous, black material upwards, stretching it out, reaching well across the whole workshop and covering the ceiling.

"No, no, no," Evelyn says, a tape measurer slung over her shoulders, pins sticking out of her plastic hand, a pencil behind one ear, and a paintbrush behind the other, "It simply isn't big enough. Try the arctic sky."

  • * *

Evelyn, covered in ink stains and sequins, frowning at something before her. "Do we have another shade of black?"

  • * *

A line of waxwork presidents, in various stages of melting disrepair. As Evelyn passes she touches a few of them absently to restore their bodies. They are working a small assembly line that appears to be producing small plastic dolls.

  • * *

A slightly off replica of David, chisel in hand, begins work on a small lump of blue quarts.

"Made out of stone and he still can't get it hard," a gaily painted, and armed, version of Milo's Venus says teasingly.

  • * *

"Of course it's tofu. Do you think they'll notice? Please, stop vomiting and answer the question."

  • * *

Evelyn before an enormous wall of comic books. A series of small wooden rodents and cephalopods flip through the pages.

She draws something on a piece of paper, and shows an incredibly deformed and hideous mass of tumors in a bright costume.

There is a loud sigh, and a half scale model of George Clooney yells, "Okay, what joker put the Liefeld comics up there?"

A double size scale replica of Luke Skywalker gives off a laugh that sounds exactly like the Joker from Batman: The Animated Series.

  • * *

"No, no, no," a bust of William Shakespeare with a broken nose says, "If I know one thing, it's how to make a glove, and that simply isn't it."

  • * *

Thirty ant sized Thomas Edison's in yellow hardhats are swarming a metal framework, and arguing over a blueprint.

"I don't care what you have to do," one yells, "Just get it done on schedule!"

"But where are we going to get a power source that big?"

"There's the Doiv."

Twenty-nine faces turn on the Edison who made that suggestion: "No!"

  • * *

A work table is covered in blood, overflowing and pouring off the sides.

"This is why you don't carve her name into it!"

  • * *

"Why all the hats?"

"I'm afraid I don't understand the question."

  • * *

Evelyn flings open a door to a studio, and is buried under a giant pile of cigarettes.

"Sorry," says something else buried under it.

"We might need to tone it down a bit," says another voice.

"Sigh," says Evelyn.

  • * *

A blood soaked Queen stands between two mirrors.

"Evelyn, Evelyn, Evelyn," she says, then ducks.

Evelyn bursts out of one mirror and through the other, over and over and over again.

"I thought we discussed this already, Mary."

  • * *

A line of small stuffed dolls that look like Tifon Leer sit on a shelf, pulling each others chords so they can take turns talking.
Then one on the ends gets his chord pulled and turns into a miniature black hole, sucking the others in.

"I instructed you to keep away from the Cora dolls," Evelyn says, trying to pull some of the dolls out of the gravitational pull, "If they come back as Nobodies," she says to a ventriloquist doll of Nelson Mandela, "Burn them."

  • * *

"No, no, no, now that's all wrong. This thing will never make a present, it's been dead for far too long. Try something fresher, something pleasant!"

"And you were worried she'd stopped imitating things."

  • * *

A flooble colored Godzilla shrieks in rage.

"I'm sorry. I just couldn't get the green back," Evelyn says, as she and a man sized Rodan paint his ankle with a new coat of green. "And, no, you can't go back to Blake. He must learn to respect others' property."

  • * *

"Look, all I'm saying is maybe Blake would like you better if you stopped copying everything he says and does."

"Me, copy him? Do you not realize you are speaking to a Freaking God of Night?"/"Me, copy him? Do you not realize you are speaking to a Freaking God of Night?"

"Hey, cut that out!"/"Hey, cut that out!"



"Wow… Deja vu…"/"Wow… Deja vu…"

"See what I mean?"

  • * *

"I'm a huge admirer of your work, Nimrod, but I think we can do bigger, don't you?"
-Evelyn & her Workshop

"What are you going to do now?" the whale had asked the mysterious and malevolent ride.

"I'm going to Disney-Land!"
-An Orca and a Water Slide

Evelyn beams when she sees Tom. No, really, her mouth reflects a glaring beam of light right in his face. She runs towards him, feet splash through Darla's new pool, arms stretch and hug…


She hugs Darla.

"Mistress," she says, "You have returned!"

That was… unanticipated.

In a moment Darla found her way through layers of steel, magic, and wood. Soon she dripped back into her solid state, standing up in a long wooden corridor.

The inside of the cruise shape was still in a state of metamorphosis. The sparkling clean metal walls of the Laluthia were transforming more and more into a watter-logged and rickety old wooden interior to some ancient sea-vessel. The newly grown wood creaked and complained as the ship shifted in the water.

Down the end of the corridor Darla could see a huge opening, like some giant termite had begun to devour the wooden ship from the inside. A rough edged broken bannister gave way to a long drop into a giant pool of murky water. It seemed the boat had begun to flood with some brackish fluid, but the newly recruited pirate crew of Davy Jones had begun taking advantage. They had constructed rafts and floating buildings made of scavenged flotsam and jetsam lashed together with rope rigging. Hungry looking pirates fished in that black water for blind-fish and pygmy-jabberwocks.

Somewhere in here was Davy Jones, but where exactly wasn't readily known. It was a spiraling labyrinth of shifting wood, cracking and creaking as the cruise ship became whatever the Mimic had planned for it. It was a newborn Chancel in bloom, and though it was hideous, it was beautiful as well.

That's when Evelyn showed up and punched her in the face though.
-Evelyn provides the punchline (Aincumis)

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