Dialogue is fun

“Lighter? Check. Smokes? Check. Hair? Check.”

“You check your bloody hair? What, it’s gonna fucking leave?”

“Shut it, Mr. Adjusts Himself While He’s Standing And I’m Sitting. What, it’s gonna fucking leave?”

“It’s not the same thing!”

“It’s at EYE-LEVEL.”

“…only if you’re right down low, innit?”



“On a scale of one to ‘what pants?’, just how drunk are you, right now?”

“Hey, listen, I said I was sorry about the milk carton. The army men were there to serve as a warning.”

“We’re not even talking about that. It wasn’t milk; milk is a liquid.”

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
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