Game text

902,736 entries

• Fathers can be such doinks sometimes.
• Oh, yeah. Big time.
• What was that?
• I didn't say anything, mother.
• You want to pay to sing to your brother? Your voice isn't that bad.
• What's taking Knabb so long? Those neusonic hearing devices should be ready by now.
• Ready for chow? Is it dinner time already? Oh—I forgot to put the moa in the Inciner-rations Cookware 540!
• No, it's not dinner time.
• Quebb! Since when do you insult your mother's cooking? My moa roast is not slime!
• Time, mother, T-I-M-E.
• My grandson's about to graduate from the College of Statics. He's three years ahead of his class!
• Ha! You call that an achievement? My grandson's already teaching his professors at the College of Synergetics.
• My grandson's working on a theory that will revolutionize golemancy.
• My grandson's already revolutionized the way we harvest ionized air particles.
• My grandson's mere days away from finding a cure for radiation poisoning.
• Well, my grandson saved an infant from an exploding lab experiment!
• You made that up!
• Will you two shut up already? Neither of you even have grandsons!
• Here we are, sweetie. Our new home!
• A little chintzy, don't you think?
• You can afford better?
• Ah, the grandeur, the security, the ramshackle paintjob—I love it!
• It needs a repaint. How does phosphorescent celadon sound, Sugar-Ears?
• If you want our house to look like fresh skritt vomit, go ahead, Nibble-Nose.
• We should build a fence out back. We might want a dog, someday.
• A dog. Why not just get a direwolf? Then it can swallow us whole, instead of choking us down limb by limb. We'll call him "Poopsy."
• Marriage is gonna be harder than I thought.
• Undead Slayer
• Agreed. Let's just paint the place mauve and get on with it.
• Shut your face-hole, Dezza!
• No! I'm right, and you're wrong.
• Nuh-uh!
• Yeah-huh!
• Ogre Slayer
• You're a liar, Dezza!
• I am not, and you smell like putrefying grub guts!
• Well, your nose is big and fat and hairy!
• You can't make a quaggan change colors!
• If you insult its mother, it does!
• Ask her. All I can say is that I'm not responsible for her anymore. Anything she screws up doesn't reflect on me. She's on her own.
• No! No, it doesn't!
• Evvi, we don't eat prototype crystal polymers.
• Mama, I want a charr.
• You can't have a charr, little one. They're not toys. They're giant, destructive hairballs.
• Why don't you play with an aquatic transfuser, instead?
• No, I want to draws.
• What a lovely illustration. What is it, Evvi?
• A charr. I want a charr.
• What did Doctor Graxx say?
• Evvi can't enlist at Splorg Metamystics with the other children. She needs specialized instruction.