The Adventures of Sam & Max: Freelance Police

[every time a phone rings]

Sam, Max:
I GOT IT! I GOT IT!

Max:
Our highly improbable plan worked, Sam.

Sam:
Maybe it was towed.

Max:
No, I think we nipped that problem in the bud when we shaved the guy at the towing yard. And his dad.

Sam:
That was the distinctive cry of a loon, mixed with the turbulent roar of the open sea.

Max:
The Commissioner, huh.

Max:
Cooperate and you will be slapped around without incident.

Max:
Sam's bothersome sense of do-gooderism is popping up like a bad rash.

Max:
Sounds like a good deed best left to someone who gives a hoot.

Sam:
We have the safety of the passengers and our pledge to provide patently ridiculous scenarios to consider.

Sam:
No doubt she is absorbed in high-level closed door doings concerning a matter of the utmost urgency and import.

Max:
Either that, our she's taking a little potty break.

Sam:
That's what I said.

Sam:
Remember, kids, we're professional cartoon characters. Don't try this at home.

Sam:
The path of violence can never lead to harmony.

Max:
Now you're just being ridiculous.

[after demonstrating how to make a Max hand-puppet from a paper bag]

Max:
Make a bunch, and use them to put on twisted puppet shows for the neighborhood kids which will affect them later in life. Use it to communicate ideas and concepts to people of other lands.

Sam:
Max's terrifying head is a universal symbol of something or other.

Sam:
Holy jumping weasel fritters on a hot cross bun!

Sam:
Looky there, Max! It's a horde of murderous inner-dwellers.

Max:
When there are five or more, the correct term is a "clot."

[Max pulls an enormous wrench out of his pouch]

Sam:
Max! I didn't know you were a marsupial!

Max:
Me neither! Whatever that is...

Max:
[on Valentine's Day, Sam and Max's car is stolen. Tracking it down, they find a couple kissing in it] Aaaaahhhh! It's being used as a make-out van, Sam! We'll have to burn out the interior!

[repeated line]

Sam:
You crack me up, little buddy.

The Geek:
[Sam and Max have adopted a baby alligator] [bursting in] My hamsters are missing.

The Geek:
[sees the alligator] You can't expect an alligator to adapt to your lifestyle. N0-one can adapt to your lifestyle!

Sam:
[seeing and hearing Max play bagpipes] Whoa! That's something I'm gonna have dreams about!

Sam:
Holy mother of all things hairy and disgusting!

Sam:
It seems people are disappearing on mass!

Max:
Oh my god, Sam! You said 'ON MASS'!

Max:
Oh my god, Sam! These people have gills! It's hideous and who would do such a thing and how do we get some?

Sam:
Gee buddy, in my experience a grade four abrasion like that usually has the recipient bawling like a three legged longshoreman at a cotillion.

Sam:
I'm just tossing darts in the dark here, but I'd say this whole transdimensional mess is the combined result of you storing toxic oozes in leaky zippy lock bags in a freezer that's as neglected as Quasimodo at a Sadie Hawkins dance.

Sam:
It was the stern, guiding voice of the Commissioner with just the right kind of hair-raising case we can wrap our overactive adrenal glands around!

Max:
Are you talking dirty?

Sam:
So let me get this straight: we can breath here, then?

Max:
I guess those prissy, paranoid astronauts never had enough spine to try it.

Sam:
Ooh, I could never say that about an astronaut.

Sam:
Who would have thought the inner workings of a salad spinner could be modified to drill through 60 miles of solid bedrock?

The Geek:
It bears out the little-known scientific fact that if you spin something fast enough...

Sam:
Even our spongy living heads...

The Geek:
- It can bore through just about anything.

Max:
Ow! I got a splinter!

Sam:
Leave it under your pillow and the Splinter Fairy might leave you a nice, shiny 2 X 4!

Max:
I hate to see a grown marionette cry.

[Max's facial expression and tone of voice change to reflect annoyance]

Max:
I wish he would stop.

Sam:
Me too, little buddy. But throwing him into the wood chipper might seriously jeopardize our relationship with the sponsor.

[Sam and Max adopt a baby alligator they found in a toilet]

Max:
I'll name him John, since that's where we found him.

The Mad Thespian:
Curse you, Sam and Max! Wretched rapscallions!

Max:
Well, that just burns me up.

Sam:
What, that he can say "rapscallions" without laughing?

Sam:
It's sort of fitting that Lorne makes his home down in the bowels of that funhouse.

Max:
Huh. That's the first time I've ever heard the words "bowels" and "funhouse" in the same sentence.

Sam:
Get used to it.

Sam:
You know, an idle mind is the devil's monkey-bars.

Max:
A nugget of wisdom from your twisted granny?

Sam:
Who else? Bless her enlarged heart.

Sam:
You know what my granny always says.

Lorne:
An idle mind is the devil's twirly-ride?

Max:
Close enough.

Sam:
You know what they say, Max. If you love something you set it free. And when it comes back, you nail it to your keister.

Sam:
Gee, I don't know anyone who could harm helpless kittens.

Max:
Here, let me.

Hudson:
[frantic] What are ya, crazy man? What kind of sick lunatic would volunteer to do that?

Max:
[excited] OOH! PICK ME! OOH! ME! OOOOH!

Sam:
Well, here we are in a deadly game of Cat and Mouse with The Thing.

Max:
Tell me, Sam, why the heck are we doing this again?

Sam:
It's simple, really! If this so-called "Thing" should somehow find its way into our world, devouring unsuspecting citizens who have no natural fear of frozen entr?es, they would surely cause a nation-wide mistrust of pre-manufactured foods of all kinds, forcing producers of over-cooked man-sized portions to go bankrupt! To safeguard American businesses, Max! THAT'S why the heck we're doing this!

Max:
And because we get to wave THESE around!

[c*cks and fires a flamethrower]

Sam:
Well, that goes without saying.

[steering a boat throught the sewers]

Max:
Look! Little baby alligators!

Sam:
Well, they're bouyant and log-shaped, Max, but hardly alligators.

Max:
I don't feel so good.

Max Salmon:
Your casual indifference cannot save you this time!

Sam:
Remember, just act like a mindless zombie, and they'll never notice us.

Max:
Will I be expected to do anyone's tax returns? HEY, wait a second, we don't have gills!

Sam:
It's a cartoon, jarhead. We have remarkable lung-capacity!

Max:
I know, but I really want gills! And webbed feet, and hands, and segmented eyes! Can I have them Sam? Can I?

Sam:
I'm spoiling this boy.