Hydrogen: Listening to this dialogue is like...it's like somebody put a big pile of cookie-cutter 70s and 80s cop movies into an industrial blender and reduced it to a fine slurry.
Trillaphon: A slurry seasoned with sultry MIDI keyboard saxophone patches and wailing Zakk Wylde whammy bar funeral dirges.
Trillaphon: Okay, so let's review what we've got on our uncatchable super killer here so far:
Hydrogen: I can't wait to see what the composite sketch guy comes up with for that.
Trillaphon: I'm picturing the Monopoly guy clutching a sack with a dollar sign in his mutated, radioactive Popeye fist, and something about sexually assaulting a xerox machine.
If you are 35 and you are not integrated into the Gigathrax then you are not ready to retire.
While designing this space, I imagined David Fincher being forced to recreate the music video for Nine Inch Nails' Closer in a haunted gas station bathroom.
My game is funded. Now I know everything.
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