Hydrogen: Wow, I never realized that cats were so opinionated and smug. Well, maybe smug.
Trillaphon: That cat sure does hate machines for some reason.
Hydrogen: Yeah, there are lots of weird, paranoid comments from him about machinery. Maybe his dear old dad flew a little too close to the proverbial sun down at the local tuna cannery?
Trillaphon: And then he started hitting the catnip hard to deal with the pain, which is why he's about as articulate as Orson Welles after burning through his third box of chardonnay.
Hydrogen: I don't know what you're talking about, this is what quality voice acting sounds like. Assuming your voice actor is mumbling into a half-full can of baked beans while a 10-cent RadioShack microphone is recording at the other end of a football field.
Trillaphon: Speaking of shit and mouths, how about that magical talking-cat mouth? You could have made a more realistic talking-cat effect 80 years ago with scissors and hand puppetry.
Hydrogen: There are probably 99-cent smartphone apps that could do that effect better than this movie did. And they come with 10 varieties of pre-recorded fart sounds at no extra charge.
The Kill List MFA Program grants a terminal (no pun intended) degree in writing lists of targets for the U.S. government to extrajudicially murder. The online program meets twice a year to workshop the students' lists.
The perfect addition to my living room. The hardy resin exterior is fantastic, because I can just hose it down to remove all the raccoon dung that tends to accumulate.
There's a new Tony Hawk game in town, and it has projectiles. ...?
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