Category: Dialogue

I enjoy recording fictional banter between a couple of characters. There’s something special about an intimate conversation.

Budget Cuts

Alfred: How are we supposed to announce the time of our deaths while we’re still alive?
Isn’t that the doctor’s job?

E. Newman: Budget cuts.

Girder

Monk: Are we building something?
I swear the girders weren’t here yesterday.

Thistle: Hm, don’t think so.
You don’t have any paint.

Monk: What’s paint got to do with it?

Thistle: Good question. Let me ask my thesaurus.
Says here a girder is like a beam.

Monk: Oh, well that changes everything.

Foliage

What the hell is all this foliage doing on my part of the lawn? You didn’t understand our agreement, Fred. I specifically stated in our last town-hall meeting, and I quote: “Fred’s shrubs are a major pain in the ass and I’m going to chop them down with my blunt, rusty hatchet”. I mean what I said, Fred. You’ll find, if you haven’t already, that I am a man of my word. Now I’ll ask you one more time, just as nice as before, to banish your plants from my premises. It’s a request so simple that a chimp could comply.

Go do it yourself, college boy.

You’re A Funny Kid, Kid

Ï€: You’re a funny kid, kid.

ø: You’re a funny kid, kid.

Ï€: Stop copying me.

ø: Stop copying me.

Ï€: I’ll stop copying you if you tell me your favorite song.

ø: Yellow Submarine.

Ï€: Yellow Submarine.

ø: Stop copying me.

Ï€: Stop copying me.

Turmeric Is My Favorite Spice

§: Turmeric is my favorite spice.

ª: That’s lovely. Can I have my coffee now?

My Hamster Ball Will Not Interfere

©: However you may approach this situation, I assure you my hamster ball will not interfere.

ß: Yeah, I’ve heard that before. Never with a hamster ball, but the scenario has definitely presented itself in one form or another over the years.

©: Like what? Emotional distress?

ß: Occasionally. It has also manifested itself as hypochondria, rabies, testicular cancer, octopus ink, test-tube babies (twice), and a whole slew of times I was told that granola bars were none of my business.

©: Wow, that’s harsh. Granola bars should be everybody’s business.

ß: Yeah, I quit that job after two weeks.

Wing Man

X: Who do I want as my wingman?

O: Ooh! Pick me!

X: And why are you suitable for this prestigious post?

O: Don’t you see my wings, dude? Chicks LOVE ’em.

X: Of course chicks love wings; they have little stubby ones and wish they could just grow up and get their feathers already.

O: I meant girls.

X: Oh… all right, let’s give this a shot.