“I’m being side-eyed by the little monster you fished out of the Mariana-uncanny-trench. I don’t care if it’s intelligent. It’s creepy.”
“Don’t talk to little Tim-Tim like that, please. He’s sensitive.”
“He bleeds venom.”
“All the more reason not to upset him.”
“I can’t—I can’t do this with you right now. You just, he, I’m leaving. This isn’t E.T. This is a horror movie waiting to happen, and I’m the fat-silly guy with meta-textual awareness. If I don’t Final Destination myself on the way home, I’ll call you.”
“Flerberton.”
“Yeah, I didn’t even mention that. Don’t think he’d take it well, though.”
“Terdertar?”
“No. We have this movie called Alien. He’ll figure it out.”
“Al-all-nien?”
“We’ll just watch it tonight. You’ll get the idea.”
“Tim-Tim!”
Tale Told 