Words have difficulty expressing how much I love this show. For those not already fans, the show follows the failure-ridden "adventures" of former boy adventurer Dr. Rusty Venture, his naive (and often-cloned) sons Hank and Dean and their bodyguard, mostly reformed child molester Sergeant Hatred. Their previous bodyguard, Brock Sampson, has left to join a G.I.Joe-like organization dedicated to doing something about supervillains.
This was an exchange that took up a full two minutes on a recent show.
[url=http://freakangels.com/whitechapel/?CommentID=263498][/url] Col. Gathers: It's downright unreasonable. I could pole-dance better than half those women. Good lord, son, there should be a mandatory retirement age for strippers.
Brock: Did you see I got cornered by Robin last night? I almost had to chew off my own arm to get away.
Col. Gathers: Ohh, that poor woman has the saddest tits. Damn depressing.
Brock: Right? Yeah, they're like The Notebook sad.
Col. Gathers: Her tits are like "coming home from school and finding out that your old man ran over cat" sad.
Brock: Mournful. She has mournful tits. They're like two suicide notes stuffed in a glitter bra.
Col. Gathers: Those things are like a little kid with progeria cracking all his ribs trying to catch a Nerf ball—just sad. Damn it, she has gloomy tits!
Brock: It's like she put a dollar's worth of change into some old socks and then taped them to her chest.
Col. Gathers: I want to build two little caskets and give her tits a tasteful, dignified funeral.