home security system

H: I know what happened.
M: What?
H: He tried to go around the side, but the mailbox ate him.
M: Intense.
H: It’s okay, he’s a terrorist.

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he who

H: He hunts for blood…
M: Who?
H: He has to have it…
M: Who??
H: The great Satan…Steve.


worst band member ever

(My morning alarm goes off. Once again, it’s a soothing piano tune over a babbling brook and birdsong.)

H: (angrily grumbling) Turn it off! It sounds like Miss Piggy farting on a xylophone. In a bad way.
M: There’s a good way…?


oh NO!

H: Raise shields.
M: Why?
H: Kool-Aid Man.
M: Ah, that’s a good reason.
H: That motherfucker…
M: OH YEAH!
H: Noooo…noooooooo!


the devil’s milk

H: Is that you Satan?
M: … Yeah?
H: You owe me $3.
M: For what?!
H: Milk.


pine and lavender

H: What’s that smell? What are you doing?
M: Putting on some lotion.
H: That’s silly.
M: I do what I want.
H: But that’s silly.
M: Putting on lotion?
H: No, doing what you want.
M: … Do you like the smell?
H: No, it smells like elves burning.

[5 minutes later]

H: Why do you smell like that? It’s like a moose in a Christmas factory.
M: (laughing)
H: It’s like a candle shit itself!


no lightsabers!

H: He’s got the whole block. That’s no good.
M: Who does?
H: The Jedi. You gotta catch him.
M: And then what? Search him?
H: Yeah.
M: For what, guns?
H: Yeah.
M: What about lightsabers?
H: That’s ridiculous.
M: But he’s a JEDI.
H: Don’t be ridiculous.
M: Fine, okay…