July 28, 2012

Let's Play Brass Monkey Games




Irma: April, let's go! New technology, get!

April: Yeah, let's do this funky monkey! Got your phone?

Irma: Check.

April: Got your computer?

Irma: Check.

April: Got your game?

Irma: Checkmate!

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Irma: Geez, talk about inflation. Get Ben Bernanke on the case! That reminds me of a cheer I learned in high school. "Let's go quantitative easing! Gimme a Q! Gimmie a U! Gimmie an A! Gimmie an . . . "

April: Are you really going to put me through this entire thing? Gimme a break.



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April: Looks like the cool thing for companies to do is forget where the shift key is.

Irma: "Know your audience!"


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Irma: This must be what they mean when they talk about halcyon days.

April: Lol.

Irma: Did you just say "lol" in real life? Don't ever do that again.

April: Don't you mean "irl"?

Irma: Did you just say "lol" irl?

April: Lol.


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April: You're my only friend. Can I--

Irma: Don't even think about it!


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Irma: We've already seen the death of the instruction manual. Are video manuals the future?

April: I can see it now: got to have those hits for that ad money. You can't have hits without making hits.

Irma: So deep I forgot to drown.


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April: What's your WiFi network name?

Irma: "Bluetooth".

April: Trying to keep the ne'er-do-wells off the scent, I see. What's the password?

Irma: "WiMAX".

April: Shoot me now.

Irma: Not when you get home?


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Irma: It feels like . . . the future.

April: Call me when the self-driving cars become popular.

Irma: From my phone or my controller

April: From your self-driving car.


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April: Is this a metaphor for copulation?

Irma: No, it's a Binary clone with a gravity mechanic added.

April: Did they get rid of the spiders?

Irma: Yes.

April: Good. I hate spiders.

Irma: What's that over there?

April: Where?!

Irma: Never mind.

April: You did that on purpose!


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Irma: You have to hold the phone in landscape, smart girl.

April: You mean sideways?

Irma: You did that on purpose.


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April: Time for a new game.



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April: What do we have here, Mrs. Datum?

Irma: It appears to be Angry Bots, Sir.

April: Bridge to Engineering, shame status-report!

Irma: Shame is empty, Captain. Repeat: no shame.

April: As I suspected. Mr. Smasher, full warp. We're out of here.


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April: I'm going to kick your alien butt . . . tail bone . . . whatever . . . with my anti-Scud P.A.T.R.I.O.T. missiles.

Irma: How Schwarzkopfian.

April: Gesundheit.



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Irma: I'm going to cherish this moment: my first win on a new system.

April: I'm going to cherish this moment as well: my first ragequit . . . 





















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