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Steve slams his fist on the table in the interrogation room. “Talk to me!” he screams. Slippery Soap flinches.
Andrew has a new response for everything (“Lmaoooooo Yes”). Ralph comes to back to the group text (“Sup It’s Been Awhile”).
I don’t know if you’re feeling it watching from up there in the studio but down here on the ice, you can just feel the absence of emotion and energy.
Write “Elton” on your left hand and “John” on your right hand, zoom in, and make it look like Elton John himself is removing your space helmet.
If you see something, say something, but if you see it again, say something different. Talk about the weather or a book you just read. We get it.
I’m not quite sure how to begin but I know too well how it ends: with tendrily monsters eating your loved ones.
Fenrir and Sköll were raised by wolves in the New Mexico desert. Today, the feral sisters redesign homes for people who identify as animals.
Hark, I get it. Carpophorus is reinventing the very genre of public violence. I just don’t have time to get into the King of Beasts right now, okay?
Negative and disgusting things you should save until at least the second date, if you're lucky enough to get that far.
When we look at Campbell's emotionally advanced AI, all we see is a faulty machine with a short attention span that never brings its knights out.
If you do purchase a star on Star Registry for your wife, don’t tell her you named it Cougar15 because she's a cougar and you’ve been married for 15 years.
You’re the best goddamned spy we’ve got in the service, but the day you TRULY become a spy is the day you get my stepson to show me some respect.