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.
The Upper Kitchen Cabinet Where Your Roommate Keeps His Food: You’ll 'need the footstool' to reach your roommate’s 'fine selection' of 'stale cereal,' but he'll never notice if 'only a little is missing from each box.' Feel less guilty by reminding yourself that Jeff 'acts weird around your girlfriend,' and always 'asks about her.' What a 'creep.'
This is the crown jewel of my erotic lamp collection, and a must-have for any serious pleasure lamp collector.
This ain't your daddy's globe...! .... or is it?!
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