Tip: Click on a transcript's + button to expand it to its full length. Click the - button to collapse it.
  |  | | |  | |   |
| Previous | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | Next |
| View |
Brain-Digbot: You see how easily we deal with those organic law-breakers? That is because we are a city of strict laws and robotic logic, human female! You could only benefit learning to emulate us! -- (Giuseppe sets two marshal-bots on fire; another marshal-bot approaches Brain-Digbot; Torg starts to back away slowly) <***FOOOOSH!***> Marshal-Bot: <Catapult> <Flame> ! Brain-Digbot: A /flamethrower?/ We can't stand up to a /*flamethrower!*/ We have the second most flammable city in the world next to Molotov-Bot City! -- Brain-Digbot (panicking): What are we gonna do? /What are we gonna dooo?!?/ -- (Brain-Digbot gives orders to the marshal-bot; drama-light-bot approaches) Brain-Digbot: Upload this announcement immediately to Announce-Bot! -- Brain-Digbot: *All civil rights suspended! All digbots run for your lives in circles!* -- Brain-Digbot: *And round up all organics for slaughter!* -- Marshal-Bot: <Flame> ? Brain-Digbot: Make that: "Round up all organics, without flamethrowers, for slaughter!" -- (Torg runs away with Kiki) Marshal-Bot: <Three arrows pointing at each other in a circle with sweat drops> ? Brain-Digbot: No-no, you can start running for your lives in circles immediately, just stop to round up any non-flamethrower-wielding organics that you spot. -- Brain-Digbot: In that, every digbot in the city will become a robo-sweaty rotating surveillance camera! None shall escape (except those with flamethrowers)! -- Brain-Digbot: *They shall fear the day that we feared the day!* </Pause flashback> | Flag | ||||
| View |
(A marshal-bot brings Torg (with Kiki on his shoulder) to the Brain-Digbot, who is sitting on a floating platform, the bottom half of which looks like a regular balloon) Marshal-Bot: <Microwave> ? Brain-Digbot: Release him, Marshal-Bot! *We meet again, human female!* Kiki: Hi! Who are you? Torg: *Brain-Digbot!* -- Brain-Digbot: Hello, tube-shaped mammal! I am **THE BRAIN-DIGOT!!!** created to manage and drive advanced tasks for the once-purposeless digbots. -- Kiki: Oooh! I do that too! Brain-Digbot: You are a task manager? Kiki: No, I pretend I'm important, too! -- Kiki: I am **RIKI-KIKI-TACO,** princess of the hidden couchlands! Torg: So we're free to go? Brain-Digbot: You did not break our 'no-guns' laws. They did. There is no one to pop but them. -- Brain-Digbot: Behold as a troop of marshal-bots charge those gun-totting [sic: should be "gun-toting"] fools like charging bulls of digbot justice! Torg: I'll behold in just a sec! <POP> <BLAM> <RAT-TAT-TAT> <POP> <BUDDA-BUDDA-BUDDA> -- (Torg surreptitiously removes a gun from his waistband, beside a container marked "TRASH") -- (Torg drops the gun in the container) -- (As Torg walks away, the container opens an eye, revealing itself to be sentient) Torg: So anywho, after the beholding, could you point us to the eastern tunnels? -- Brain-Digbot: The eastern tunnels lead to the digbot temple. It is forbidden for non-digbots to enter. Torg: Uhhh... (The trash-bot walks over to them) -- Trash-bot (coughing up the gun): Cough! -- (Brain-Digbot straightens his tail in surprise) -- (Brain-Digbot gets angry) -- (Still angry...; pregnant pause) -- Brain-Digbot: *Get this lawbreaker out of my sight!* -- (They look on as the marshal-bot carries the trash-bot away) Marshal-Bot: <Barred window> . Trash-bot: <Arrow> (pointing to) <open frame> <family photo> **!** -- Brain-Digbot: I'm sorry you had to see that. Torg: I'm feeling kinda sorry myself. </Pause flashback> === NOTE: Ref: _Human Deemed Female_ <http://www.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/081111> | "_Taco_ <http://www.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/19990316>" | Flag | ||||
| View |
Bun-Bun: For the last time, Kiki I don't know what you're talking about. Kiki: Where are we? -- Bun-Bun: Oh, we stumbled into the junk room. All those losers' things that I didn't manage to sell. Kiki: I /*miss*/ "those losers!" Riff, and big-eyeballs and those... those other peoples... -- Bun-Bun: OK I admit free room and board with no plumbing woes or digbots to manage sounds appealing right now. But there's no chance of that, Kiki. Not with me using their old possessions as currency... | *!* -- Bun-Bun: *Hmm-Hmm-/HMMMMM!/* (Idea light bulb (with a Bun-Bun face) lights up over Bun-Bun) | Flag | ||||
| View |
Torg: Zoë and Gwynn sent me. They have to do some emergency reconstructive prosthetic-nose surgery on Aylee. Riff: She didn't try to fake a sneeze with party-snaps again did she? -- Torg: Powdered her nose with a belt sander. Riff: Nice. Torg: Got any crazy-glue lying around? -- Riff: That stuff's for wusses. My collection starts with "sociopathically-deranged glue" and goes up from there. Low bridge. -- (Torg hits his head as he goes through the passage) <***BONK!***> Torg: Ow! -- Torg: You've got to get these inflatable digbots to raise the roof a bit down here. Riff: They're working on it. Slowly. It's what you get for renting an underground lair from Bun-Bun. This chamber's much bigger. -- Torg: So /*this*/ is your new robot? /*Wow!*/ Riff: /*Behold the Mark 19!*/ -- Torg: Mark /"19"?/ What happened with the other ten or so...? Riff: I don't want to talk about it. Torg: Not even a little? -- Riff: I'm just saying "going green" is not easy in the world of robotics. You go out of your way to make things biodegradable, caring about the future and all that... | The Mark 17 was made of /*cheese,*/ for example. -- Torg: You didn't do that because you were being "green", you did that because it's /sheer awesome!/ Riff: *It was an unstoppable robotic munster!* -- Torg: Although a cheese-built robot doesn't sound too resilient. Riff: The Mark 17 was a mix of "lite" cheese, cheap cheese, and imitation processed cheesefood. Post analysis indicated its plastic content to be higher than the Marks 12-16 combined. -- Torg: So, did it, like, /melt?/ Riff: A bear ate it. | And died of tummy ache. | Flag | ||||
| View |
Frog (in Darth Vader-like FR-ech; over video link): You heard me right Irving! /*More*/ digbots! They're working on the metal plate in the ground. Dr. Irving Schlock (to the video link): Clear them out. I wonder why they... <*beep-beep-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO*> -- Dr. Schlock: /***WHAT?!?***/ Frog (over the video feed): "What"-what? -- Dr. Schlock: Frog I have to let you go. Oasis just flat lined. <*RING*> -- (Medical area in disorder; stains on the wall) Female hC Agent (into her cell phone): Boss, sir! Strom *killed Oasis!* Took her *head!* Left the body! Killed the guards! /So much blood!.../ -- Dr. Schlock (into his cell phone): *No!* Not /now!/ Not when I'm /*so close!*/ -- </*ERT! ERT! ERT! ERT! ERT!*> <**PERIMETER BREACH!**> <*VIDEO SURVEILLANCE MALFUNCTION*> <*ESCAPED PRISONER ALERT!*> Schlock's cell phone: *BEEP IN* -- <*ERT! ERT! ERT! ERT! ERT!*> Dr. Schlock (into his cell phone): Talk to me, Chief Cordo! Cordo (over the phone): Strom released three prisoners. Dr. Schlock: Three? (door opens, Kursari entering) <*Shuf!*> -- <*ERT! ERT! ERT! ERT! ERT! ERT! ERT! ERT!*> Cordo (pointing a gun at Chen): The Zalias and Daedalus. Chen's cell was open, but he stayed put. Chen (unkept and unshaven): What's the point in running? Kusari would only drag me back tomorrow. Or worse. -- Reynold Strom (aka Nash Straw; aka Warren Nashville; inner monologue): "I always get the job done. This job just took a damn long time. I was hunting a murderer who turned out to be Oasis. Killing her and taking her body for proof ticked her off enough to almost kill me back. Maybe if I just take her head, she'll only cuss me out. -- Dr. Schlock: He's trying this in broad daylight. Kusari? Make sure Reynold Strom knows how bad a mistake he just made. Kusari: I'm on it. -- Strom (inner monologue): "Kusari will be on me unless I can distract her and take out the one who'd order my execution. Which is why I chose /this/ time under /that/ window...!" Dr. Schlock (spotting Strom from his window): Hey! There he is! -- Kusari: Get away from the w... Strom (inner monologue): "And he takes the bait. Goodbye, Dr. Schlock!" -- (Strom firing his gun upwards at the window, where we previously saw Dr. Schlock) <**BLAM!**> === NOTE: Reynold Strom (Nash Straw) Ref: _The Job_ <http://www.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/061024> | _The Bod_ <http://www.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/20061029> | _The Tickedness_ <http://www.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/061107>. | Flag | ||||
| View |
Bun-Bun: Guess what time it is, Nerd-Boy? <**KA-CLICK**> -- Torg (his cool cracking; sweating): Time... /*not*/ to die? -- Bun-Bun (angrily): Close. -- Zoë: You're not going to hurt him, Bun-Bun. -- Bun-Bun: Oh, I'm /not,/ toots? All the time we spent under the same roof and you don't remember "Hurt Nerd-Boy Thursdays"? -- Zoë: Did you figure out how Torg built a secret lair beneath your concrete foundation right under your nose? Bun-Bun: Cobbler elves? Zoë: Something better. Squishydodo (whispering to Torg): Is this where we run? Torg (whispering back to Squishydodo): shhh! -- Zoë: Similarly Torg's going to build you a casino twice as big in half the time and make you a fortune. -- Bun-Bun: I'm all ears. </End flashback> Zoë: Come with me. -- Zoë (standing in the doorway of a door marked "WARNING | CONSTRUCTION ZONE"): Bun-Bun? /Here's why you're not going to hurt Torg. -- Zoë: These are digbots. They will build you a casino quicker and larger than Riff could. And like the Black Ops Elves they work for Torg. And Torg works for you. -- Zoë: Let Torg build you a casino upstairs and do his thing downstairs and all you have to worry about is the paper cuts when you roll around in your giant pile of money. And I hope your paper-cut potential is enormous! Bun-Bun: Nerd-Boy is /so/ unqualified to date you, toots. -- Bun-Bun: OK Nerd-Boy. I'm willing to give you some time. Torg: Hey Bun-Bun, just for my piece of mind, how did you find us down here? Bun-Bun: Teresa said she heard some weird things here. I checked it out. -- Squishydodo: /*Teresa?!?*/ Torg: /*The device!*/ -- Panel caption: DEVICE SECURITY / CHANGING ROOM. Torg: It's... /*gone.*/ Zoë: It was here a second ago while I was changing! Note taped to small podium: That device goes here! -- Torg: Without that, we're /sunk./ === NOTE: Ref: _This_ <http://www.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/150618> comic. | Flag | ||||
| View |
Riff (working on a robot head): Because they pop so nicely? -- Torg: Yes! Apparently many elves can become addicted to popping sounds. Squish said it started when "Santa went exclusively with bubblewrap". Torg: That's obviously code-language but I was afraid to ask what that meant. Riff: Interesting. -- Torg: They have a 'snap crackle' rehab clinique [sic: it's just plain ol' "clinic"] in Burbank. Riff: You don't say. -- Torg: Look man, it's not your fault. Riff: I /*know!*/ Tweetyjerkjerk is /*relentless!*/ Pushy and clingy comes in /*all*/ shapes and sizes! -- Torg: No, I meant Schlock stealing your inventions and weaponizing them. Riff: Oh. -- Riff: It's kinda tough to argue that if I hadn't messed around with dimensional portals none of this would be an issue. -- Torg: Schlock is the one who took bad actions against innocent people. You used to /pride/ yourself on knowing who the badguys are. -- Torg (parting shot on the way out the door): /Always/ try and remember who the badguys are. -- (Riff shudders after Torg leaves) <shudder> -- Riff (to his robot head): Mark-24? I got the weird feeling Torg wanted me to reassure *him* instead of the other way around. -- (Riff looks in Torg's direction......) === NOTE: Ref: _Mark 23 (mentioned)_ <http://www.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/20121105>. | Flag | ||||
| View |
Aylee: Hi Z... Person! We're ready to go rescue Minion Master's sister! I mean "Knight-1"! We're supposed to use codenames but you don't have a code name! -- Zoë (looking at "Code Name Cheat Sheet"): Ahem. Bishop-1 you will wait for acknowledgement from Knight-1. If Pawn-5 was accurate on Kinght-1's [sic: should be "Knight-1's"] cell position, Rook-2's forces will tunnel you right to her for immediate placement on our side of the board! -- Aylee (over video chat; pointing to the image of Isabella): Follow the digbots until we see this girl then grab her and fly her home! Got it! We won't let you down... you! Monitor: LIVE FEED | SECURE <lock> | <Isabella> KNIGHT-1 -- Zoë: Bishop-1 is in position, Torg. Torg (over video chat): I sent the encrypted message so we're out of here in ten minutes regardless of what... -- Torg: Hold on... Receiving acknowledgement... ...Vidchat? -- Sam (over video chat): Hey Torg! Are you there? It's me, *Sam!* I'm /*OK!*/ (Behind Sam, on the wall, is "MMH #13") | Flag | ||||
| View |
Squishydodo: So there was no /direct/ connection between them? Male handler elf: Not until tonight. Her desire to know the time may be indicative of a failsafe. She's very resourceful. I wouldn't count her out yet. -- Female handler elf: Pawn-5 sent the recording via a Happy-Box toy. An "Eavesdropper Bug." So he can now send us audio as well as scanned handwritten notes. And this recording is his way of saying she's been captured but not broken yet. She's on her way to interrogation and could give up our casino location at any moment. Squishydodo: But he also uncharacteristically exposed himself and revealed a connection between them. Female handler elf: He may be requesting we get him out of there before he goes down too. -- Squishydodo: That won't happen. But the connection itself...? Marcus Chen worked with Slaughteresa's mother. /*Who is her mother?*/ -- Male handler elf: We have no information on this. -- Squishydodo: This is /perfect!/ Things couldn't be better! I need to contact Pawn-4. And put Rook-2 on alert. -- Squishydodo: And Tweets? We're evacuating *everybody.* Tweetyjerkjerk (over video feed): About time. | Flag | ||||
| View |
<KLIK> -- Riff: ***DEPLOYING SHODDIE-SUITS!*** (Two digbots in S.H.O.D.D.I.E. suits are dropped from the Mark 24) -- Riff: ***PILOTBOTS ONE AND TWO, DEFENSIVE STANCE OMEGA-B!*** Riff: ***WAIT* DON'T JUST DIG INTO THE GROUND! *WE'VE BEEN OVER THIS!*** <***EEEE...***> <***EEEE...***> <***DIGGITTY DIG-DIG DIGGITTY***> === NOTE: Ref: _Shoddie Suits_ <http://www.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/170130>. | Flag | ||||
| View |
-- (Oasis begins to tear up...) -- (Oasis turns her back on Torg and steps away, crying and wrestling with the pain of rejection...) -- Oasis: In the message you sent me, you said you loved me. That's a lie, isn't it? -- Oasis: You want to use me for something. You don't actually care about me one bit. (Torg puts his hand behind his head in a gesture that suggests that he feels sheepish - both at the plan and at last reaction towards her; in the meantime, the digbots are still digging, and are now underneath them at the edge of the cliff....) -- (The cliff edge that Oasis is standing on begins to give way...) -- (...Oasis starts to fall, tears streaming down her face...) | Flag | ||||
| View |
-- (...unfortunately scoring a perfect landing on a piece of cliff that has already broken off...) -- (...just as she starts to fall again, Torg grabs her arm...) -- (...Torg is lying along the top of the cliff, wincing in pain from the wrench to his shoulder, but still holding on to Oasis...) -- (...Torg begins to reach over with his free hand as Oasis reaches towards him with hers...) -- (...Oasis' face registers her gratefullness - not at Torg saving her, but because the act shows that he cares after all...) -- Torg (as he starts to pull her up): /*This*/ time, I've got you. | Flag | ||||
| View |
Riff (as a duplicate translator-bot approaches from behind him, on his right): Yes. You turned the Shoddie Suits into an effective army against Hereti-Corp. -- Duplicate Translator-bot: Then why do we make you uneasy Riff? Riff (startled; instinctively tossing a capsule in the air): /***GYAH!***/ Duplicate Translator-bot: ooo, is that an inflatable laser ca... -- <***fwump***> <***ZAP***> <***POP!***> -- Translator-bot (carrying a pie): It seems *your* friend/foe targeting system is malfunctioning as well! Riff: *You made /more/ of you!?!* Translator-bot: Digbots self-replicate from time to time as a defense mechanism! Riff (blushing): /*Well stop it!*/ -- Translator-bot: We baked you a pie! Riff (angrily): /*The pie is a lie Matty!*/ Translator-bot: Who is Matty? -- Riff (off panel): *****GET OUT!***** Translator bot (outside in the corridor): Warning: Overlord Riff is in a mood. And also is armed. Torg: /*Greeeeat!*/ On the wall behind the Translator-bot: <icon of a white king chess piece> ==> === Transcriber's Note: _The Pie is a Lie_ <http://www.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/20090916>. (Thanks to sluggite gregnier) NOTE (added later): Ref: Again _Matty_ <http://www.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/20090831>. Also, _the pie is a lie_ <http://www.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/20090916>. | Flag | ||||
| View |
Schlock: Show me! -- Gilda (off panel; narrating the different pop-up windows on screen): Eye in the sky and ground cams, we're seeing... /*My God, you were right boss,*/ we're seeing a *bunny!* Just as you *feared!* And a winged humanoid creature of some kind! -- Schlock: Aylee! So that's her form now. Beautiful. | I have reports about her humanoid form but I didn't... I mean I knew her way back when... -- Flashback panel: (Aylee in dragon-form, holding up a sign: <heart>; Schlock in a haz-mat suit holding a jar labeled: "Aylee's stolen ALIEN DNA"; hC Agent holding a sign: "We know about the alien DNA! Join our CLONE project, or else!"; with a second hC Agent holding a sign: "LOOK OUT!"; Schlock running away from Riff holding a laser cannon; <****BOOM****>; Daedalus Hereti holding a sign: "He tried to _blow us up_! Find him & *kill him!*"; Kusari holding her Kusari-gama weapons; an inflatable Schlock-balloon holding a banner: "Don't kill me! Here! Have some Riff-tech! D.F.A."; Schlock (extremely happy and wearing a shirt that says "What hC now?"): "***HOSTILE TAKE-OVER.***) Schlock: I should have left her alone. If I never tried to sell Aylee's DNA... -- Schlock: ...but this is *not* on /*me!* They *all*/ backed me into a corner. Hereti-Corp Daedalus, Riff, Sasha... Gilda: This sounds like too much personal information for me to be hearing, the kind you might regret later so, /*I'm off for a potty break!*/ -- Torg (through a megaphone): The digbots and I joined forces. For survival of ourselves and those we love. We made plans. -- Schlock: /*No potty breaks! Not now when I'm finally about to win!*/ -- Gilda (on the viewscreen): Riff's closing in, boss. What's your order? -- Schlock: Take the shot. === NOTE: Lot's of Schlock Links: (_1_ <http://wwww.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/20000107>) (_2_ <http://wwww.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/20010603>) (_3_ <http://wwww.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/020606>) (_4_ <http://wwww.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/20020614>) (_5_ <http://wwww.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/020731>) (_6_ <http://wwww.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/060817>) (_7_ <http://wwww.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/20070222>) (_8_ <http://wwww.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/20070425>) (_9_ <http://wwww.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/20070426>) (_10_ <http://wwww.sluggy.com/comics/archives/daily/070625>) | Flag | ||||
| View |
-- Schlock (staring at another part of his screen): Cone on... Where is it? Where is it...? -- Gilda (on viewscreen): Sir? Schlock (waving her off impatiently): /What?/ Yes-yes. Unleash hell. -- Gilda (off panel): We are /confirmed!/ *Unleash Hell, repeat Unleash Hell.* Interior security perimeter, launch emps *at will against all digbots in range!* "Welcoming Committee": Take out Torg by any means! Condor Team and snipers: Kill Riff. *New primary target is Riff.* Flux every other target! /Happy Hunting!/ | Flag | ||||
| View |
Torg: Hey Riff! How's the new secret lab working out? Bun-Bun: zzz -- (Riff pushes back the hood of the parka, exposing a bandage on his left cheek) Riff: The army of slowly-self-replicating inflatable digbots is worth the rent! On the down side, it has low ceilings, the plumbing is broken (into little pieces actually) and its [sic: should be "it's"] freezing in there! Torg: What happened to the side of your face? Bun-Bun: zzz -- (Riff is removing the rest of his parka) Riff: Inflatable digbots have issues with "safe distances" and placement of space-heaters. Torg: Heh, maybe they thought they were called "face-heaters." Bun-Bun: zzz -- (Riff has one arm completely out of the parka; it is wrapped in bandages) Riff: I'm working on a system that uses steam pipes to simultaneously heat the lab while powering a backup generator and keeping hot cocoa ready on demand. Torg: What happened to your arm? Any why does it smell chocolaty? Riff: I also have issues with "safe distances." | Flag | ||||
| View |
Torg (bowing): Had Bun-Bun learned compassion, as his actions had shown? Just a little selfless giving had gained him... and Kiki... a home. Merry Christmas. Kiki: The end! - <**CLAP CLAP CLAP**> - Riff (wearing a Santa hat and covered in scorch marks): Great holiday story, Kiki! Gwynn (angrily): I've got /*angry-eye wrinkles?*/ Zoë (angrily): Gwynn and I /*snuggled in bed?*/ Torg, I was sleeping on the couch /*and you know it!*/ Aylee (pouting): I don't have stinkles. -- Torg: Don't look at me, guys! It's Kiki's story, I just narrated it! Kiki is holding a sign with a hand pointed at Torg saying "'Twas all Him" -- Kiki (on Torg's shoulder): psst! (You were right about the angry-eyes!) Riff: So is that how it happened, Bun-Bun? -- Bun-Bun: Mostly. I don't remember killing Kiki at any point but that's not to say I didn't. And I don't have "nukes", I have "nooks." Lots of them. Seems like digbots build them during off hours. Kiki: Oh yeah! I always mix those up. -- <SWIpe> Bun-Bun (grabbing the Santa hat): And I would have cleaned up the last poem (*)ahem(*)... *Everyone was so happy with the gifts they unwrapped, They didn't notice me regifting their own dumb stuff back.* -- Bun-Bun: *Their stuff that I couldn't sell any-ol'-way, Got me free room and board and nothing to pay.* -- Bun-Bun (tossing the hat): Twas the first time I understood "Fatman-in-red." What was in it for him. What ran through his head. <*TOSS*> -- Bun-Bun (hopping over to the bedroom): *"Giving" gets you more if you do it right. Merry Christmas to nerds and to nerds a good night!* -- <**SLAM!**> (Bun-Bun slams the bedroom door) -- Riff: What's worse is I've agreed to /pay him/ rent! I'll be using his underground lair as my new secret lab. Torg: Did he just claim the bedroom? Kiki: Bun-Bun learned the value of giving! *I saved the universe!* <*Poing*> Aylee (still pouting): Kiki has stinkles. Footnote: The End === NOTE: Digbots do like their _nooks_ <http://www.sluggy.com/daily.php?date=060817>. | Flag | ||||
| View |
=== NOTE: No one can look away from the Brain-Digbot once he has captured you with his BRAIN-EYES! Mua-ha-haaaa! | Flag | ||||
| View |
Zoë: /Ha-ha-ha!/ Torg, you're /*terrible!*/ Brain-digbot: Hey, if you think /*that*/ is a good story... -- Torg: /*Dude!*/ Don't you have something to /*do?*/ Brain-digbot: Of /*course*/ I do! I *run this place!* -- Torg: Would you like to dance? Zoë: /Really?/ -- (Torg and Zoë are dancing on their knees) Zoë: I never knew you danced, Torg! Torg: I don't! But with this low ceiling, I can't move my feet or get my arms too high! It's like this dance club was made for me! | Flag |
 |  | | |  | |  |
| Previous | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | Next |