Trillaphon: That is the worst analogy in the history of the English language, for so many reasons. I'm sure she was relieved to die from having a flaming rose shoved down her throat after having to listen to that.
Hydrogen: Apparently human trafficking involves more leather trenchcoats than a Mad Max movie, and guys with slicked-back hair who think they're philosopher kings for some reason. Now I'm convinced it's a serious problem we need to wipe out as soon as possible.
Trillaphon: The whole "Napoleon" thing makes it seem like he and Seagal are life-long nemeses, but as far as we can tell from the rest of the movie, they've never met before.
Trillaphon: I want to learn the martial-arts school where wild falcons follow you around all the time and screech for dramatic impact.
Hydrogen: And where you can astral project your giant bloated head over the sky to terrify children.
Trillaphon: Going by the quality of the swordsmanship here I'm going to guess the bad guy had a personal fencing coach, and Seagal had a personal catering team of six.
Hydrogen: And so, Steven Seagal wandered the forest forevermore in search of more injured animals, because they are biologically the only ones who cannot escape his crushing presence.
|Music / Sound||-6|
(Lips smacking, mouth full of peanut butter, glistening streams of peanut butter oil running down chin) "I'm full as hell, and I'm not going to take another bite!"
I saw good men turned to mush in the wars against the soggies. Men much better than you, Mr. President. If you are going to take John Brennan's security clearance, take my security clearance too.
Bonk: The Only Good Bonk Is A Head Bonk
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