Garfield:
Oh, Sleeping Beauty, wake up. You can stop dreaming about me, because I'm here. Now just wake up. You got work to do. You're not just my owner, you're my primary caregiver. Now be a...
Jon Arbuckle:
Not now, Garfield. [Wraps arm around Garfield]
Garfield:
[choking] Get- A- Ah- Just- All right. Cut the sweet stuff. Easy now. Just- [breaks free]
Garfield:
Trying to cuddle with me, huh? Trying to avoid your duties, eh? Well, that just ain't gonna fly! It isn't gonna work with me. See, I'm getting my exercise, doin' my job. Just one quick CANNONBALL! [jumps from TV and hits Jon in the stomach]
Garfield:
Morning.
Jon Arbuckle:
Garfield!
Fred Claus:
You're gonna get hooked on that thing. I can see it now. Sixteen thousand bags of Cheetos later, you'll wake up, you're thirty-five, you're overweight, you're crying about your life in front of the soaps. I just did you a favor. You get outside, play around, make some friends, play kick the can, do some athletic stuff, go to school, you're comfortable enough to play sports, you get a partial scholarship, you got any ethnic in your background, any ethnicity in your background? I bet you do. It's America, you know what I mean? Find out what it is and put that down on the application for college. Now all the sudden you get a little extra money on the side, Uncle Sam's none the wiser for it. You take that extra money, you buy a motorcycle with it or something. Be a lady. Maybe meet a guy while you're at school. And then you'll get pregnant with child, it works out with the guy, it doesn't work out with the guy, who cares? You're blessed to have that kid in your life. You're going to be athletic, you're going to be a moderate to lukewarm student, and you're gonna have a child before you graduate college. And who are you going to have to thank for all that? Not the big guy in the red suit, but your pal Fred.
Girl with Plasma TV:
Ugh!
Fred Claus:
Sometimes it hurts to grow.
Miranda Priestly:
Do you know why I hired you? I always hire the same girl- stylish, slender, of course... worships the magazine. But so often, they turn out to be- I don't know- disappointing and, um... stupid. So you, with that impressive résumé and the big speech about your so-called work ethic- I, um- I thought you would be different. I said to myself, go ahead. Take a chance. Hire the smart, fat girl. I had hope. My God. I live on it. Anyway, you ended up disappointing me more than, um- more than any of the other silly girls.
Gun Salesman:
We call this piece the Fecalator. One look at it and the target shits him or herself. Try it on.
Loki:
Well, it's a lot more compact than the flaming sword, but it's not nearly as impressive. Just doesn't have that Wrath-of-the-Almighty edge to it. I mean, come on, how am I supposed to strike fear into the hearts of the wicked with this thing? Look at this...
Bartleby:
Well, then, you know, don't use a gun. Just lay the place to waste, like.
Loki:
Easy for you to say. You get off light in razing. You got to stand there and read at Sodom and Gomorrah, I had to do all the work.
Bartleby:
What work did you do? You lit a few fires.
Loki:
I rained down sulphur, man, there's a subtle difference.
Bartleby:
Oh, yeah, I'm sure.
Loki:
Hey, you know, fuck you, man. Any moron with a pack of matches can set a fire. Raining down sulphur is like an endurance trial man. Mass genocide is the most exhausting activity one can engage in, outside of soccer.
