“Button one?”

“Tentacles.”

“Button two?”

“Tentacles.”

“Just how many wolves were you planning on making?”

“As many as it takes.”

“That... makes no sense at all. Neither does it provide a meaningful answer to my question.”

“A pot of boiling water? Really?”

“Hey, don't knock it 'til –”

“We have a horde of orcs, demons, and some unidentifiable sort of hexapeds bearing down on the keep. And you want us to start boiling pots of water.”

“And remember: pain is a gift.”

“Have you secured the Kevinflier mechanism?”

“Yes, dad.”

“When will they be here?”

“Could be any time now. An hour at most. Hm. Probably closer, judging by the rumbling.”

“Do you ever regret it?”

“What? Triggering the apocalypse?”

“The primary issue is that they don't know whether to consider us to be alive or not.”

“You mean whether we're intelligent life?”

“No. I mean actually living, as opposed to some sort of weirdly animate rocks or something.”

“Pirates?”

“Yep. Looks like a few dozen ships.”

“Wait, ships? We're nowhere near an ocean.”

“Look who's awake!”

“Mommy!”

“Now don't – don't try to stand up yet, sweetie. You've been asleep a long time.”

“But I'm not tired, Daddy!”

“It's okay, dear one. Just lie down. You will be soon.”

“Hey, Uncle Ron. How are – oh, you know what I'm calling about? Did you send it?”

“Did he?”

“No, he says he got one, too. He's been researching it.”

“Did you see that package out on the porch?”

“Oh, yeah. I'd forgotten about that. Could you bring it in?”

“Bring it in? It's like five feet tall and looks like it's made from lead and gold.”

“Look, I'm not saying you're -”

“You don't think I'm pretty?”

“Blue?”

“Gods, no, I can't stand blue.”

“Red, then?”

“Nah, red is so... pedestrian.”

“Daddy, why to they call it Black Friday?”