Look, look at this. We got Hurricane Grace moving north off the Atlantic seaboard. Huge, getting massive. Two: this low south of Sable Island, ready to explode. Look at this. Three: a fresh cold front swooping down from Canada. But it’s caught a ride on the jet stream, and is motoring hell-bent towards the Atlantic. What if Hurricane Grace runs smack into it? Add to the scenario this baby off Sable Island, scrounging for energy. She’ll start feeding off both the Canadian cold front, and Hurricane Grace. You could be a meteorologist all your life and never see something like this. It would be a disaster of epic proportions. It would be… the perfect storm.
All I know is, on the day your plane was to leave, if I had the power, I would turn the winds around, I would roll in the fog, I would bring in storms, I would change the polarity of the earth so compasses couldn’t work, so your plane couldn’t take off.
Then when you get the money, you get the power.
Goddammit, I’d piss on a spark plug if I thought it’d do any good!
Take these three items, some WD-40, a vise grip, and a roll of duct tape. Any man worth his salt can fix almost any problem with this stuff alone.
Well, I gotta tell you: I’d be very, very careful who you talk to about that, because the person who wrote that… is dangerous.
This may undermine my nonthreatening, huggable design.
He’s so fluffy, I’m gonna die!
Laugh it up, fuzzball.
Hello, Vinny. It’s your Uncle Bingo. Time to pay the check!
Free Shakespeare for everybody!
Everybody where? The little gay bar on the prairie?
That’s just what this country needs: a cock in a frock on a rock.
All this is true because it rhymes.
I don’t care whether you’re Jesus or not. The resurrected Jesus will save the world and that’s what matters. I created the truth out of what people needed and what they believed. If I have to crucify you to save the world, then I’ll crucify you. And if I have to resurrect you, then I’ll do that, too.
He’s not the Messiah; he’s a very naughty boy!
You’re a naughty one, Saucy Jack.
You’re a haughty one, Saucy Jack.
You’re an idiot? Jack, what did you do?
I am Jack’s colon. I get cancer. I kill Jack.
There ought to be a “Captain” in there somewhere.