What was I supposed to do?
Let T-1000 walk around, hope he doesn't open fire?
Like my daddy always said,
"just 'cause it kills your liver don't mean it ain't medicine."
That kid went straight-up
Menendez on me not 10 days ago.
As far as I'm concerned,
it's a gift horse, and I'm not looking for teeth.
I'm sending death a damn fruit basket.
- What was that?
- One part age, three parts liquor.
- So, what kind of thing likes virgins and gold?
- P. Diddy?
Um, I googled "fire," "claws," "flying,""stealing virgins,"
and "gold," and it all takes me to the same place.
Where? "World of Warcraft" fansites.
Hey, how's "memento" doing over there?
Which says what?
That they live in middle-earth?
What, no 12-sided-dice joke?
So you need one to kill one,
but you got to kill one to make one.
How does that work out?
You rocks think you're so smart.
Welcome to the 21st century.
- Where did you get that?
- Comic-Con.
- Could you make a few calls?
- To who? Hogwarts?
- What language is it?
- Da Vinci code. Real obscure latinate.
Gonna take me my golden years to translate it all.
So, you're saying that these, uh, dragon freaks were squatting
in the sewers and reading tone poems about purgatory?
Dad never wrote anything about dragons.
I promise. I'd remember if I read "The Neverending Story" in there.