Metalocalypse · Season 1
The donation will go to pharmaceutical research.
What kind of pharmaceugical research? [still playing with the laser pointer]
Well, I'm not sure. It doesn't say.
Have those guys cured anything?
Uhhh... no. It says here, no, they have not.
Ok. Shouldn't they have cured at least one disease?
Well, it doesn't matter. All you need to know is that if you want to keep your money, you do this show.
See, that makes more sense to us. Just say that from now on.
Dudes, what the hell is wrong with this guy? He can't stand still.
Maybe he gots to go outside and gos to the... B-A-S-T-H-R-O-H-M-N-S-E.
Don't kill him, leave him alone! He's my son!
I'm not, you idiot, I'm... using... hug therapy on him! Read somewhere it's supposed to calm him down! [Nathan Grunts and Fatty stops squirming] Oh... dear sweet... Lord, I think he just used the restroom in his shorts. [drops Fat Kid] I guess he did have to go outside.
Hey goofball, look who's all neutered! You are! Yeah you're neutered, huh goofball, yeah! Who's a neutered guy?
You know, I'm starting to get sick of dis fatherhoods thing, and why are we the ones who always get stuck feeding his fat ass? I think they racist or something.
Well, it's not supposed to be easy, Toki. Eats your foods, Fatty Ding-Dong, because your daddies goings to take yous to thes charitys show, to's sees daddies play... eh, he's not listening. I don't know Toki, fatherhood is a strange word. So much responsibility, and whats are the rewards? Huh?
I suppose... I feel a sense... of pride... knowing I help raise him... so dere is dat. HERE'S A BUCKET OF HANKBURKERS, AND A COUPLE OF BIG GULPS AND CRAPS, YOU FAT TITS!
Try not to choke, you fat tub of shit. We loves you!
Well, Fatty... dat's was not great back dere, how you killed an entire orchestra.
Looks cool but it does not reflects on us very well. Fatty Ding-Dongs, wes woulds likes to haves a words wid you, fathers to son.
Now, we know that it's totally your fault that the London Philharmonic was sliced in half by a laser beam, and we know that you're sorry, we know that. But I guess... hmmm... I guess we'd kinda hoped that you'd use better judgement, y'know? And as your fathers, we, uhh....
(Angry) Aw he ate my fucking shoes little bastard! He ate my Civil War shoes! (Murderface walks up to Fatty Ding Dong and has a slap fight with him) They're fucking irreplaceable Civil War shoes! YA FAT SON OF A BITCH!
I think I know what you are all trying to say. I... uh... um... I think we have to build a space helicopter.
Ah, well, that's impossible, but I think I may have a better idea.
Oh he'll be fine, he's fat.
[While shooting a music video for the instrumental 'Crush my Battle Opponent's Balls', a mechanical dragon malfunctions, starting a fire. Chaos ensues all over the set, killing and maiming everyone, except for Skwisgaar, who is left hanging in the air from a harness.]
Ohh... this thing squish my ball... Eeegh... I might throw up -
Oh, cool, yous gots a new shipment of custom guitar!
Yeah, dis is uh, some designs I'm messings arounds with, uh... dis one is, um, is Swiss Army-tar. Is good guitar for a camping trip, s'got toothpick.
Yeah, good tone, what's that one right' theere?
Uhh, is just an ant farm-itar. They, stills workings on it.
Nice! I'd like to stand on that thing.
Yeah, I'd stand on that.
Yah, an' this is the Gibson Excalib-itar, you know, and here's my... guitar made from the wood of Christ's cross.
Awww, get ready for a billion e-mails. Here comes the offended religious weirdos.
What's offensive about the most religious instrument ever?
[Skwisgaar is trying to give instructions to a stage hand on the set.]
Okay, let me explains again, in prefectly clear English, I wants, flys in, on, a dragons, okay? How many times I gots to tell this peoples?!
I know, there isn't a dragon.
I know, dat's what I'm telling you!
But that's what I'm telling you.
So go get one! What are you doing here?! Go! Go get one! Now! Go, go!
They don't have them!
Are you telling me dere out of dragons?
They never had dragons.
Who didn't?
The world!
[infuriated] Get dis guy out of here! Finds me a dragon!
Okay, pulls it togedder. Don'ts lets the stress gets-in-to-you! Yous is the fastest guitarist alive, dere's no pressure! OH GODS, I cant's do...
[Skwisgaar buries his head in his arms and cries, his eye makeup is running down his face. Charles Ofdensen knocks on dressing room door and enters.]
Hello, I'm fine, just... getting high!
[Toki yanks a tooth out, with black spots of decay on it.]
Is that a tooth?
Yeah. Got any other questions? I'll be right here!
Your teeth are falling out because of your free candy from your free endorsement deal.
Are you a dentists?
No.
Well, then, shut up! Oh, by the way, teeths grow back!
Uh, no, they don't.
Yes, they do! Dont's you remember beings a little kids when you teeths woulds falls out and grow back and you would get the old one under the pillow so the ancient Norse god Orthar, the tooths collector, woulds leaves you a Pickle's Nickel?!
[A yell is heard.]
That came from Skwisgaar's dressing room!
[The oxygenating hand aquariums, part of Skwisgaar's Hand Insurance Policy, are stuck to Skwisgaar's hands.]
I don't know whats to do! This solid crystal oxygenating hands aquariums won't comes off!
SKWISGAAR, YOU GOTS TO GETS ON STAGE SOON!
OHH NOOOO!
Clank them together! Over your head! Burst them! Hurry!
[Skwisgaar clanks them over his head, only producing a tinkle, and the hand aquariums are barely even scratched.]
It sounded cool.
I thinks I has diabetes. I'm gonna take a fucking nap.
These quotes come from Wikiquote's Metalocalypse pages and are available under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License.
