[Blake shuffles around the papers in his hands.] All right, let's see what we got here.
Number 1. We got somebody who's never heard of a butterfly. Maybe it's another of you guys from space or something. Hey, number 1 guy, if you're listening. Don't go giving the people in charge of this bullshit any ideas. If we end up running into bats made out of butter named some sort of cutesy dairy pun, it's your goddamn fault. They'll probably call it a Vampire Pat.
Second, I don't know what the fuck malfunction makes somebody write a whole letter like a fuckin' wedding invitation. I don't trust anything that starts out "once upon a time." You ever gone and looked at those old fairy tales? Christ. It's less bedtime stories and more the kind of shit that gives serial killers ideas.
Hey, kids, if you ever go out in the woods at night and find somebody who offers you fairy dust, don't fuckin' take it.
But hell, if you want to know how somebody feels, turning into a clown is a good start. Then you know exactly how anybody looking at you feels: terrified. I've met guys who're the size of refrigerators and pick fights with biker gangs for fun who can't handle clowns.
Number 3, we got some kinda scientist here. Got a point there, though. Leaving somebody in a burning building is an asshole thing to do, even if you're gonna come bring them back from the dead. Makes more sense to cut out the middleman there.
Who owned the place, anyway? Nine times out of ten, fires are somebody trying to get the insurance money.
So they think this bird knows it screwed up once, screwed up bad, and now it's out there trying to make up for it.
Nice story.
Thing is, there's shit you can't make up for.
The fourth one...how does a plant piss off the Mafia?
This fifth guy. Look, people leave. I'm not gonna lie to you. It's fucking lousy and it doesn't get better. But the way this buddy of yours sounds, if he caught you moping, he'd smack you upside the head and tell you to go have some goddamn fun.
Six. Damn right they don't. Look at those fluffy little bastards. There's tougher bunny rabbits.
Holy fuck, seven, you know you don't have to answer all of them, right? Jesus. I can't even be mad, that's fucking impressive. I wouldn't trust one of those pink blob things if it said it'd grant me a wish, though. Those things are a lot too cutesy to be on the level. I bet you'd end up with some monkey's paw shit, like where you ask for a nice car and they give you a Ferrari full of spiders. See, even here it made the Slowpoke do all the work. What kind of crappy wish-granting is that? And it must've taken fuckin' weeks. You ever see one of those Slowpoke things moseying around? You wanna dropkick it down the street to do it a favor.
What the fuck's a sidequest, anyway?
Eight, this one's cute. Like some kinda text-message picture book. Bunch of weird gibberish mixed up in there, but you know what, those drawings are pretty nice. You could WHAT THE FUCK
Moving on. Moving right the fuck on.
Nine. How could there be a bird whose wings go "from one end of the sky to the other?" You wouldn't have any sky left, just bird. And what kinda hero doesn't beat the bad guy? That noble death in the line of duty shit isn't all it's cracked up to be. People pay you some lip service and then forget about it.
Ten might be on the right track. That guy who takes somebody else's sandwich out of the breakroom fridge? Scum of the fuckin' earth.
Eleven would explain why there was thousands of those little bastards all of a sudden. But there's another thing to remember, kids: never trust anybody who says he's a wizard.
...wait a minute. [He glances back up toward the beginning.] My ma's not fat, asshole!
Bet you a solid grand twelve is by one of those fucks who drinks tea with their pinky out.
But hell, that fuckin' Heloise shit could come in handy. A whole lot of these monsters are slimy little bastards. Wreck the carpet.
The weirdest part of thirteen is some country having a mime for a king. Try to figure out how that would work. "Hey, Your Highness, what should we do about the military spending this year? ...oh. Pull an invisible rope. Yeah, great. That's what you said about taxes, too."
Wait, a pervert? Shit, a pervert mime, that's creepier than a clown.
You know, you hit somebody with a sword, not having friends isn't gonna be their big problem anymore. They're gonna be more worried about not having any blood left.
[He taps the papers against the desk.] That's all of them. They're... [this seems to perplex and surprise him] ...not bad.
[video]
Number 1. We got somebody who's never heard of a butterfly. Maybe it's another of you guys from space or something. Hey, number 1 guy, if you're listening. Don't go giving the people in charge of this bullshit any ideas. If we end up running into bats made out of butter named some sort of cutesy dairy pun, it's your goddamn fault. They'll probably call it a Vampire Pat.
Second, I don't know what the fuck malfunction makes somebody write a whole letter like a fuckin' wedding invitation. I don't trust anything that starts out "once upon a time." You ever gone and looked at those old fairy tales? Christ. It's less bedtime stories and more the kind of shit that gives serial killers ideas.
Hey, kids, if you ever go out in the woods at night and find somebody who offers you fairy dust, don't fuckin' take it.
But hell, if you want to know how somebody feels, turning into a clown is a good start. Then you know exactly how anybody looking at you feels: terrified. I've met guys who're the size of refrigerators and pick fights with biker gangs for fun who can't handle clowns.
Number 3, we got some kinda scientist here. Got a point there, though. Leaving somebody in a burning building is an asshole thing to do, even if you're gonna come bring them back from the dead. Makes more sense to cut out the middleman there.
Who owned the place, anyway? Nine times out of ten, fires are somebody trying to get the insurance money.
So they think this bird knows it screwed up once, screwed up bad, and now it's out there trying to make up for it.
Nice story.
Thing is, there's shit you can't make up for.
The fourth one...how does a plant piss off the Mafia?
This fifth guy. Look, people leave. I'm not gonna lie to you. It's fucking lousy and it doesn't get better. But the way this buddy of yours sounds, if he caught you moping, he'd smack you upside the head and tell you to go have some goddamn fun.
Six. Damn right they don't. Look at those fluffy little bastards. There's tougher bunny rabbits.
Holy fuck, seven, you know you don't have to answer all of them, right? Jesus. I can't even be mad, that's fucking impressive. I wouldn't trust one of those pink blob things if it said it'd grant me a wish, though. Those things are a lot too cutesy to be on the level. I bet you'd end up with some monkey's paw shit, like where you ask for a nice car and they give you a Ferrari full of spiders. See, even here it made the Slowpoke do all the work. What kind of crappy wish-granting is that? And it must've taken fuckin' weeks. You ever see one of those Slowpoke things moseying around? You wanna dropkick it down the street to do it a favor.
What the fuck's a sidequest, anyway?
Eight, this one's cute. Like some kinda text-message picture book. Bunch of weird gibberish mixed up in there, but you know what, those drawings are pretty nice. You could WHAT THE FUCK
Moving on. Moving right the fuck on.
Nine. How could there be a bird whose wings go "from one end of the sky to the other?" You wouldn't have any sky left, just bird. And what kinda hero doesn't beat the bad guy? That noble death in the line of duty shit isn't all it's cracked up to be. People pay you some lip service and then forget about it.
Ten might be on the right track. That guy who takes somebody else's sandwich out of the breakroom fridge? Scum of the fuckin' earth.
Eleven would explain why there was thousands of those little bastards all of a sudden. But there's another thing to remember, kids: never trust anybody who says he's a wizard.
...wait a minute. [He glances back up toward the beginning.] My ma's not fat, asshole!
Bet you a solid grand twelve is by one of those fucks who drinks tea with their pinky out.
But hell, that fuckin' Heloise shit could come in handy. A whole lot of these monsters are slimy little bastards. Wreck the carpet.
The weirdest part of thirteen is some country having a mime for a king. Try to figure out how that would work. "Hey, Your Highness, what should we do about the military spending this year? ...oh. Pull an invisible rope. Yeah, great. That's what you said about taxes, too."
Wait, a pervert? Shit, a pervert mime, that's creepier than a clown.
You know, you hit somebody with a sword, not having friends isn't gonna be their big problem anymore. They're gonna be more worried about not having any blood left.
[He taps the papers against the desk.] That's all of them. They're... [this seems to perplex and surprise him] ...not bad.