Dialogue Lines

[RoughWriters]

Everybody is going to post their dialogue lines here, then we will each write a brief paragraph or two or more using these lines:

"Frankly, my dear, I don't give a discount."

"You signed on to fight demons, this is your big chance."

"What did you expect? Headless monkeys won't be able to see you."

"I put the cat in the washing machine once and you never forget it."

"I didn't know you could do that with a nose hair clipper!"

"Take that Capitalist Swine!"

"You know, I like hearing myself talk too."

Good luck, you guys! See you after spring break!

[Edward Cheever]

Here's my bit! ^_^ -

The Hell-WHole Supermarket, located in the strip mall in downtown Dis, the city of Hell, was jam packed with demons and lost souls this morning. And one lone intruder.

Jora looked around at all the passing demons and souls anxiously. She was terrified that one of them would suddenly notice she wasn't supposed to be there and send up the alarm, but to be honest, she fit right in. The souls wandering about weren't wisps, but fully formed. Like corpses walking. Truth be told, the only difference between them and her was a pulse, and nobody cared enough about intruders to go around checking that sort of thing. Besides who would want to come here?

The check-out line she stood in was full of fidgeting souls and one large bored-looking demon. The souls were fidgety for good reason, as there was a crack in the red rock floor beneath their feet where steam, smoke and gasses issued forth, ready to open wide at a moment's notice. The occasional flame bursts that popped up behind the isles of fresh Poison-Ivy-brand toilet paper and pre-soiled underwear were unnerving, as was all the screaming, of course.

But Jora would not be deterred. The reason she had come here in the first place was only a few steps away. She clenched her fist around the only weapon she could sneak past the gates of Hell: a nose-hair clipper. Well... when I say it was the only weapon she could sneak past the Gates, she had started to wonder if maybe she should have been more daring. She managed to get through with no problem at all, but then she had been expecting Cerberus or something to be guarding the Gates. That turned out to be very disappointing. She could have snuck in a Gatling gun if she'd really wanted. I mean, what did you expect? Headless monkeys won't be able to see you. Why they ended up as the guardians of the Gates of Hell, she'd never know.

As she neared the register she tried to nonchalantly find ways of hiding her face from the cashier. She didn't want him to expect a thing. No matter what, he couldn't see this coming. She gripped the nose-hair clippers even harder, and it grew slick from her sweating palms.

“Come on,” she thought to herself, “keep it together. You signed on to fight demons, this is your big chance!”

Finally, she stood in front of the register, though she studiously faced the other way. She steeled herself for the moment.

“What can I do for you?” Came the bored drawl from the demon on the other side of the register.

She spun around with a dramatic flourish and leaned in intently, “Your head on a silver platter, Dave!”

Dave's eyebrows lifted up until they climbed all the way to the horns coming out of his forehead, “Jora?”

“Yes, Dave. I told you I'd even follow you to Hell to punish you for what you did.”

He shook his horned head in disbelief, “You know, I put the cat in the washing machine once and you never forget it.”

“Oodles never recovered after that, you pig!” Jora spat at him, “And I had no money for pet therapy!”

“Look, it was your fault that you let the cat sleep in that thing whenever it wanted. It was just a matter of time before somebody slipped up and forgot to take the cat out before hitting the rinse cycle. I mean what do you expect?”

She gave him a hard smile that never reached her eyes, “You know, I like hearing myself talk too."

He sighed. “Look, will you just leave me alone? I'm in hell already, I don't need this.” He gestured for the demon security guards, who had been watching from the front of the store.

She snarled at him, “Not so fast. I've got a coupon for the wrath of a woman scorned.”

He leaned in with a snarl to match, "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a discount."

Her nostrils flared and she pulled out her small metal weapon while leaping over the counter to tackle Dave to the ground with a war-cry.

"Take that Capitalist Swine!" She cried as blood spurted up from behind the counter.

The demon guards neared, slowed and just stood there watching while Dave screamed. They looked impressed, and one leaned over to whisper to the other, "I didn't know you could do that with a nose hair clipper!"

[betanine]

People packed the aisles, the lines to the cashiers an impatient, writhing, intemperate serpent. This happens every year. Black Friday. Every year I swear I’m not going to get sucked in. I say to myself, Brent, just stay home, watch TV and eat leftovers. It will be a perfect follow-up to Thanksgiving Day. Did I listen? No. Now I’m in the middle of this madhouse at five in the morning. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

It was the Best Buy ad. The gadget sirens sang to me, their absurd prices their song. On the front page, bigger than life was advertised the iPad for only $250, doors opening at 4:30 a.m. And so, foregoing sleep, I made my way to Best Buy at midnight knowing that I will win the prize.

Like I said, it was now five in the morning. I was waiting as patiently as I could manage for the pimpled sales kid to finish with the computer illiterate who had managed to get helped before me. If only I was a college girl with a ponytail and pretty smile, I might get attention, too.

“You signed on to fight demons, this is your big chance.” Images from the weekend’s biggest blockbuster flashed across a hundred screens simultaneously on the wall beside me.

“It looks like Highlander for Christians,” my buddy Chad had said, but I couldn’t help but being excited.

“May I help you?” The Justin Bieber look alike pulled me out of my revelry having finished with Barbie.

“Yes, I would want an iPad,” I said, pointing at the ad in my hand. “One that’s on sale.”

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a discount!” he laughed at his own bad pun while I stared at him, still pointing to the ad. “Yeah, ok, I’ll see if we have any left. I gotta go get the key.” He sauntered off in no particular hurry.

A boy talking to what I guess to be his mother was walking toward me, the boy using his hands to make his point. “I put the cat in the washing machine once and you never let me forget it!” Now there’s a story I’d pay money to hear.

Justin Bieber was back with a wad of keys. I’ve seen two year-olds handle keys as well. Finally, iPad in hand, I grimaced at the thought of joining the rest of the cattle being led to slaughter.

“You want a warranty on that?”

“No, I just want the iPad,” I responded, patience running thin.

“I can ring you up over here if you’re not paying with cash.” Maybe I’d gotten this kid all wrong. Three minutes later, I was shuffling my way through the crowd, clutching my prize, eyes on the exit. And now I had an iPad for a reasonable price. "Take that, you capitalist swine!"

[Scott]

It was a slow day down at “Demons are They”, a wholesale story for anti-demon accessories. Margarat twidled her thumbs at the cash register while the sound of the caged banshees began to rise over the elevator music playing. Slapping the stand she left the register to check on the banshees. Poor things are frightened again. Rounding the corner, she came across a scene from which she his, a young man and old, in solemn talk.
"What did you expect? Headless monkeys won't be able to see you." Amos said with a hint of age.
“But the camouflage will work best in the nether, it’s red!” replied his younger counterpart.
“The nether? We’re going to Vegas, Malachi. The big demons are there.”
“Demons are really not as much fun though, all you do is shoot them with a bible bullet.”
"You signed on to fight demons, this is your big chance." Amos said with annoyance, “Who knows when there’ll be another infestation like this. 5 kills per bullets, think how much the bureau will pay!”
"You know, I like hearing myself talk too." Malachi smirked.
Amos smacked Malachi over the head with his hand. “What was that for!?” Malachi spoke furiously, “Don’t blame me for everything. Do you think I can’t take care of things? I put the cat in the washing machine once and you never forget it.”
A loud alarm sounded from the pens to the west. Margaret ran back to the register for her flute. The sound of hooves rang on the tile floor, the centaurs had gotten loose. As they charged yelling, "Take that Capitalist Swine!", she stepped from behind the register and began to play one of Fredrick the Great’s sonatas, dodging the bales of catnip being thrown her way. Though catnip was the best way to destroy shapeshifters, it did nothing against her except aggravate her allergies.
Achoo, Achoo. The sonata slid off and the centaurs began to rouse from the drowsiness the songs had begun to inflict. From around the corner came Amos with a bassoon borrowed from the racks, the sad melody soon made the centaurs collapse. Rubbing her nose, Margaret spoke:
“Tanks for that.” Her nose was still stuffy.
“No problem, can we check out now?”
“Yeah!”
Placing the bassoon on the counter along with a small turtle, “between you an me,” Amos whispered, “since I helped can I get a few bucks off this thing?”
With eyes like ice, she intoned, "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a discount."
As Malachi cowered from behind the far shelf he heard a loud crash and came out to see Amos on the floor. Margaret stood above him replacing her most powerful weapon in her pocket. From the corner Malachi whispered to himself, "I didn't know you could do that with a nose hair clipper!"

[chelseye]

Nora dodged another ball, ducking just in time before the red ball whizzed by her face. “UGH! When is this going to end? I swear Coach just likes to see us get hit in the face with the dodge ball.”
“You signed on to fight demons, this is your big chance!” Jonny said beside her, completely involved in the game.
“Jonny, it’s a dodge ball game. Not one of your fantasy worlds. There are no demons around here.”
“That’s what you think! Look, ½ of them are wearing red. Their either demons, or communists!”
Just then the ball hit Jonny in the stomach. “Take that capitalist swine!”
“There’s your cousin…I think he heard the communist comment.”
“No duh,” Jonny clutched his stomach as he walked towards the sidelines. Nora was about to purposely run in front of a ball, just to end the stupidity when she heard him yell.
“I didn’t know you could do that with a nose hair clipper!” Ugh, I’m not even going to look. I’ll probably barf.
“Coach! Can I just sit out? Please? This game is pointless. Those idiots couldn’t hit me with a beach ball. Let alone a dodge ball.” The class jock strutted to the dividing line, effectively catching 2 balls at once and removing 2 more people on Nora’s team.
“What did you expect? Headless monkeys won’t be able to see you!” Steven, Nora’s brother said.
“OH SHUT UP!” Nora screamed. “I put the cat in the washing machine once and you never forget it. I didn’t know that it would tear your stuffed monkey’s head off. Why do you keep calling me that!?”
“Because now he looks like you!” Steven stuck out his tongue.
Nora would often ask her mother why they couldn’t take him back to the hospital where they found him. Her usual answer was the doctor told her “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a discount.” Mom watched way too much Gone with the Wind.
“Ugh, when I get out of here, I’m going home, taking a long hot shower, and napping the rest of the afternoon.” She growled under her breath
“You know, I like hearing myself talk too." Nora jumped as Kent sidled up next to her. Not again! Please, not the creepy stalker! “Sometimes I’m the only one who listens.”
“I wonder why…”she muttered. Would today ever end?

[Sarah]

Serena gazed up at the sky. Tristan, her friend, lover, and husband, stood beside her. She mumbles to herself incoherently and continues to gaze up at the sky.
“You know, I like hearing myself talk too.” Said Tristan grinning at her as she glared at him.
“I wasn’t talking so I could hear myself talk. I was just thinking out loud.” said Serena blushing furiously.
“I know my dear. I do so love to get a rise out of you.” Replied Tristan grinning again like a madman.
“Ugh I don’t know why you enjoy tormenting me so!” said Serena in exasperation.
“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a discount.” Said Tristan with a completely straight face.
“What? Is that some misguided way of quoting from a movie you know I detest?” asked Serena.
Tristan didn’t respond but continued to stare up into the sky. Serena threw up her hands in exasperation and went back to staring up at the sky too.
“It is a beautiful night Tristan. I do feel almost invisible.” Said Serena with a sigh.
“What did you expect? Headless monkeys won't be able to see you.” Said Tristan again with a straight face.
Serena could do nothing but stare at him.
“What? I am merely having a conversation with you. It’s true! Take that Capitalist Swine!” said Tristan with a swish of his hand as if he had a sword.
Serena smacks her husband on the arm and glares at him.
“You aren’t making any sense Tristan. None at all. You complain that I never make sense and am quite silly when you yourself are proving to be incredibly silly as well.”
“I put the cat in the washing machine once and you never forget it.” Said Tristan.
“This has nothing to do with the cat. You signed on to fight demons, this is your big chance.” Said Serena.
Tristan stared at her in shock. He began to chuckle, until his chuckle turned into his deep throaty laugh that sounded as one might imagine Santa Claus to sound like.
“Well my dear. I think you have won.” Said Tristan with an odd look on his face.
Serena smiled smugly for a moment until she heard his voice again.
“I didn't know you could do that with a nose hair clipper!”

[glen]

I had a dream the other night.
It was about werewolves, and vampires, and demons, well, you get the idea. Blame it on pizza, or corn on the cob, and a bad apple, yadda yadda yadda. Yeah, I know.
So I am standing there in Grand Central Station when this guy in a red jumpsuit and a hammer and sickle on his helmet whacks me across the head. “Take that, capitalist swine!” he shouts at me. I had better things to do—I was standing in line to buy a train ticket—so I ignored him. He didn’t like that. But he kept after me, his voice getting louder with each passing minute. I wondered if he was used to being ignored, so I turned as said to him, “You know, I like hearing myself talk too.”
I wasn’t partial to being called a Capitalist Swine—even though I voted for the other guy—so I fished through my pocket for any weapon I could find. When I found my nose hair clipper, I turned and jabbed it in his eye. He yowled and ran for the restroom. The woman behind him chuckled and said to me, “I didn’t know you could do that with a nose hair clipper.”
I laughed too, and watched as the woman’s smile turned into a frown. A man with a bowler hat passed by in a hurry for the exit. He looked as if he knew her. She charged forward shouting “Harry, Harry!” He saw her and his pace quickened to a panicky run, shouting over his shoulder, “I put the cat in the washing machine once and you never forget it.”
The line was longer than I had anticipated, and the time was rapidly approaching for me to catch my train. I knew there wouldn’t be another one anytime soon. I watched as porters came by with a load of luggage on carts. The last cart had a large cage on it, and I saw a small line of blood that followed them. One porter frowned at the other. The second pushed and shrugged. “What did you expect?” he said. “Headless monkeys won’t be able to see you.”
I knew I had to do something quickly to get my ticket before boarding time. I could yell fire, but that had been done before. Instead I yelled, “Look! It’s the Devil!” Everyone turned to look where I was pointing, and I moved up. One little kid nudged another saying: “You signed on ti fight demons, this is your big chance.”