Don’t be a luddy-duddy! Don’t be a mooncalf! Don’t be a jabbernowl! You’re not those, are you?
I am a golden god!
Well, I didn’t vote for you.
The Lady of the Lake, her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite held aloft Excalibur from the bosom of the water, signifying by divine providence that I, Arthur, was to carry Excalibur. THAT is why I am your king.
Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king.
You have our permission to bugger off!
I don’t need anybody’s goddamn permission! I’m gonna search every inch of this town and anybody who interferes will be brought up on murder charges, got that? You have my permission to stay out of the fucking way!
Yes, I’ve become quite a student of your operations in this region. Thirty-four mansions, I think it was, pillaged and burned under Colonel Montgomery’s expedition of the Combahee. Four thousand bales of cotton smuggled through the lines, with payment to parties unknown - except by you. False quartermaster requisitions. Major Forbes here has seen the copies. Along with confiscated valuables shipped north as personal baggage. Shall l go on? I can report you to the War Department. Oh, yes. I can do that.
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. And this button-down, Oxford-cloth psycho might just snap, and then stalk from office to office with an Armalite AR-10 carbine gas-powered semi-automatic weapon, pumping round after round into colleagues and co-workers. This might be someone you’ve known for years. Someone very, very close to you.
Stop, or my Mom will shoot!
Darling, please stop. You’re making me blush.
Oh, I’m sorry. Did I break your concentration?
Happy - smile. Sad - frown. Use the corresponding face for the corresponding emotion.
Give me back my face!
I’m everyone - and no one. Everywhere - nowhere. Call me… Darkman.
Whoa, whoa, whoa! Okay, you are now firing a gun at your imaginary friend NEAR 400 GALLONS OF NITROGLYCERINE!
Would you mind not shooting at the thermonuclear weapons?
Well, we know he can do THAT!
Where does he get all those wonderful toys?
Umm…your wife?