Sam: Well, sorry to bother ya, have a good one. An Arby's just opened up on the other side of town, and... You were born a mistake.
Wormhorn Lola: Unless of course I just really don't like you much, either. The creature—Tony asks, and doesn't look too surprised when Bucky nods dumbly. Lutzelfrau, Milo, and Lola go behind the candy cart. Apollyon: Focus on getting my Seal, Lola. Lola: Excuse me, barkeep, we would like a, uh--. You seem like a well-to-do Demon, very put-together, upscale, like a--a camel. My demon friend porn game play. Milo: Lemme in there! We didn't know we were supposed to tell you anything, we just--we just got here. Milo: These, uh, monks? Milo: Sorry to, uh, but-- I have to ask... why are you trapped here like glittering fish in a very depressing aquarium? It would really help us out! I mean, we got the invites, we're gonna be V. I. After the dance-off is over, confetti falls.
They had their practice runs and now they're ready for the big show, right guys? God, you make me sick. Please, it is a kindness I would cherish to my soul. They sound like shitheads. Lola: Technical foul-- double tech, automatic ejection, drop off your jersey and hit the showers, goodbye. Is Milo gonna be okay? They used to laugh at your jokes even if they weren't great. My girlfriend is a demon. Milo: Um, maybe give us a minute? The guy can't turn off.
But he has to enforce them. Lola: Of course I don't. The Significant Cellar Bar Options []. Oooh god it's so fuckin' good! Fela: [text] "Sum anciet Egypt God is doin SHOTS with Lukes Horn Sharpener, Azazel! My demon friend porn game 2. Interrogated Eliza). The demons teleport away. Satan: Yeah, I already saw them, they just left to have a threesome with that Conquistador. Wormhorn: How in tarnation are you, man! She finally leave your ass? Aren't I a good friend? It'd be like climbing to the top of the Empire State Building and shining a forty watt flashlight... hopin' someone in Bed-Stuy will see it.
Wormhorn bursts into existence before them. We'd like to get to Satan's house, please. Milo: No no no no no, give us-- give us a second. Milo: I don't know, Wormhorn. Left mid-conversation). Don't be an idiot, Milo. Milo: Thank God this stupid song worked. Milo: Hey, c'mon, I--I know an educational jam band isn't to everyone's taste, but... (Lie) Yeah, you were great! Wait, what is it called when it goes in? How will he know to tip 15% or that it's not acceptable to slap mailmen? We're going to some diner on Friday. Lola: Milo... we are trying to get out of Hell.
Asmodeus: I really insist. Bar Demon: No, I used to play-- not professionally, but in college before I tore my, uh, whatever cuff. Think about me the next time you want a manager haha. We'll ask the processing guy. She seems-- she seems nice and... clean. Lola: Uh, yeah, we're on the list, I--I think. Lola: Milo, c'mon, they're just fucking with you.
Apollyon: You thought about becoming an attorney, right? Peyton: Yo yo yo, it's Blackhouse in the house! Make way for Coleco Magnavox, the demon of, uh, foot... hands. How many ways do they have to spell shit out for you? Milo: What's there to talk about? Milo: You've had to jump in after people? But no, you would never notice something like that! Skip to "Fela: Look, I'm at the point of the evening where (... )"]. The sounds coming out of your mouth sounds like a funeral that died and went to Hell where it exists with us now. I'd head to the Process station now if I were you. Berinon: There it is, yeah.
Milo: We deserve to be there, too, you know. Lola: Oh my God, it's happening, it's really happening! Liquid Courage/Rich Asshole). Surely, the people considered you a wise and benevolent ruler... Greg: Oh, they did, definitely, they'd throw flowers at my feet-- even on Valentine's Day when flowers are expensive, but, uh... a musculoskeletal disease turned me bitter and... selfish, I guess. Lynda: Spare me the therapy camp verbs. Crowleys Tochter Virtue Nutter sucht im Jahre 1636 nach ihrem Vater. Lola: That's a tuner? Milo: Yeah, a, uh, a Woland's Margarita.
Lola: A Hydrophobia this time, I think? Dogbelly: Thank you, brother, thank you, thank you. Human in Line: Uh, this exact spot something like two days. Lola: Yeah, we-- uh-- we could've been strangling bus drivers for kicks on weekends! Lola: [sigh] Okay, fine. You think you can pull the trigger when the gun's in your hand? Milo: Look, we--we didn't want to get into it earlier but we--we actually wanna try and get home, if uh--if that's--. The floor opens up beneath Milo and Lola, causing them to fall into another room and land harshly.