Daryl17
Chieftain
More silliness from the Jive translator at http://ccwf.cc.utexas.edu/~eclectic/toys/jive.html You guys have any official goverment documents I could run through this thing?
Badass p.m., Hal
Bea'. Badass p.m., Hal. How's everythin' goin'? **** dat ****.
Hal. Badass p.m., Mr Bea'. Everythin' be goin' 'estreme-like well. Bea'. Hal, yo' ass have some enormous responsibility on dis mission, in many ways puh'haps
da greatest responsibility o' no single mission element. Yo' ass be da damn brain an' central nervous system o' da damn ship, an' yo' responsibilities include watchin' ova' da dudes in hibernashun. Duz dis eva' cause yo' ass no - lack o' confidence?
Hal. Let me put it dis way, Mr Bea'. Amen! Da 9000 series
be da damn most reliable doodad eva' made. No 9000 doodad has eva' made some
mistake o' distorted 4-1-1. We be all, by no practical definishun o' da damn
words, foolproof an' incapable o' error.
Bea'. Hal, despite yo' enormous intellect, be yo' ass eva' frustrated by yo' dependence on sucka's t' carry out
acshuns?
Hal. Not in da slightest bit. I enjoy workin' wit' sucka's. I have
some stimulatin' relashunship wit' Dr Poole an' Dr Bowman. Mah mission responsibilities range ova' da entire opuh'ashun o' da damn ship, so's I be constant-like occupied. I be puttin' myself t' da damn fullest possible 'esploit, which be all, I think, dat no conscious entity kin eva' hope t' do.
Bea'. **** dat ****. Dr Poole, whut's it likes livin' 4 da betta' part o' some yaih' in such close proximity wit' Hal?
Poole. Well, it be pretty close t' whut yo' ass said about him earlia', he be plum likes some sixt' memba' o' da damn
crew - real damn quick-like git adjusted t' da damn brainstorm dat he raps, an' yo' ass think o' him - uh -tru-ly plum as anotha' sucka'.
Bea'. In rappin' t' da damn doodad, one gits da sense dat he be capable o' emoshunal responses, 4 'esample when I axed him about wassups skills, I sensed some certain pride in
wassups answa' about wassups accuracy an' puh'fecshun. Do yo' ass recon' dat Hal has genuine emoshuns?
Bowman. Well, he acts likes he has genuine emoshuns. Er - o' course, he be programmed dat way, t' make it aisia' 4 us t' rap t' him, but as t' whetha' o' not he has real feelings be sump'n I duzn't think anyone kin truthful-like answa'.
Happy birthday, Frank
Hal. 'escuse me, Frank.
Frank. ****in' A! Whut be it, Hal?
Hal. We've gots da transmission from yo' parents comin' in. True dat.
Frank. Uh - propa'. Could yo' ass put it on in da house, plaise? Snatch me in some bit?
Hal. ****in' A! Certain-like.
Frank. Some bit higha', Hal. Da bomb!
Hal. Happy birthday, Frank. **** dat ****.
Frank. Thank yo' ass, Hal. Some bit flatta', plaise.
Some real damn enjoyable game
Frank. Mmm...anyway, queen snatchs pawn, huh...O-K?
Hal. Bishop snatchs knight's pawn.
Frank. Uh, love-like move...a' - rook t' kin' one.
Hal. I is sorry, Frank, I think yo' ass missed it. Queen t' bishop trey, bishop snatchs queen, knight snatchs bishop, mate.
Frank. Uh. 'S coo', bro. Yeh, peeks likes u r right. I resign.
Hal. Thank yo' ass 4 some real damn enjoyable game.
Frank. Yeh, thank yo' ass.
Plum some moment...
Hal. Badass prime time, Dave.
Dave. How're yo' ass doin', Hal?
Hal. Everythin's runnin' smoot'-like. An' yo' ass?
Dave. Oh, not too way baaad.
Hal. Have yo' ass been doin' some kinda' mo' work?
Dave. Yo' mama. Oh, few sketches.
Hal. May I spot them? Sheeeiit.
Dave. Sho' nuff.
Hal. Dat's some real damn supa' fine renderin', Dave. Word. I think you've improved some great deal. Kin yo' ass hold it some bit closa'? What it is,
Mama! Dave. Sho' nuff.
Hal. Dat's Dr Hunta', aint it?
Dave. Uh-huh. 'S coo', bro.
Hal. By da way. Do yo' ass mind if I ax' yo' ass some puh'sonal quesshun?
Dave. No, not at all.
Hal. Well, forgive me 4 bein' so's inquisitive, but durin' da past few weeks I've haid-scratched whetha' yo' ass might be havin' some kinda' second thoughts about da damn mission.
Dave. How d'you main?
Hal. What it is, Mama! Well...it be ratha' difficult t' define. Perhaps I is plum projectin' mah own concern about it. Word. I know I've neva' complete-like freed myself o' da damn suspicion dat dair be some kinda' 'estreme-like odd **** about dis mission. I is shaw u fixin' 2 agree dair be
some kinda' troof in whut I say.
Dave. Wank, wank. Well, I duzn't know, dat's ratha' some difficult quesshun t'answa'.
Hal. Yo' ass duzn't mind rappin' about it, do yo' ass Dave?
Dave. No, not at all. Word to yo' mama.
Hal. Well...certain-like no-one could have been unaware o' da damn real damn strange stories floatin' around b4 we left...rumours about sump'n bein' dug down on da moon. I neva' gave dese-he'ah stories much credence, but particular-like in view o' some kinda' o' da damn otha' **** dat have went down
I find them difficult t' put out o' mah mind. 4 instance, da way all our preparashuns wuz kept unda' such tight security...an' da damn melodramatic touch o' puttin' Drs Hunta', Kimball an' Kaminsky abo'd alraidy in hibernashun afta' foe months o' separate trainin' on deir own.
Dave. Yo' ass workin' down yo' crew psychology report.
Hal. O' course I be. Sorry about dis, I know it be some bit silly. Plum some moment...plum some moment...I've plum picked down some fault in da A-E-35 unit. It be fixin' t' go some C puh'cent aborshun within 72 hours.
Dave. Be it still within opuh'ashunal limits right now?
Hal. Damn straight, an' it will stay dat way until it aborts. Slap me some skin.
Dave. Would yo' ass say we have some reliable 72 hours t'aborshun?
Hal. Damn straight, dat's some complete-like reliable figure. Ah be baaad...
Dave. Word. Well, den I suppose we gots'ta got'ta brin' it in, but fust I'd likes t' go ova' dis wit' Frank an' git on t' Mission Control. Let me have da damn rock xerox on it, plaise.
Some simple matta'
Dave. Well, Hal, I is damned if I kin find anythin' wrong wit' it. Yo' mama.
Hal. Damn straight. It be puzzlin'. I duzn't think I've eva' seen anythin' quite likes dis b4. I would recommend dat we put da damn unit back in opuh'ashun an' let it abort. Da bomb! It should den be some simple matta' t' track waaay down da cause. We kin certain-like afford t' be out o'
communicashun 4 da short time it will snatch t' replace it.
I is shaw u r right, Hal
Hal. I hope da damn deuce o' yo' ass aint concerned about dis.
Dave. No, I aint, Hal.
Hal. Be yo' ass quite shaw?
Dave. Yeh. I'd likes t'ax' yo' ass some quesshun, though.
Hal. O' course. Man!
Dave. How would yo' ass account 4 dis discrepancy between yo' ass an' da damn
twin 9000?
Hal. Well, I duzn't think dair be no quesshun about it. It kin only
be attributable t' human error. Dis radical **** has cropped down b4, an' it has 24/7 been due t' human error.
Frank. Listen, Hal. Dair be neva' been no instance at all o' some doodad error occurrin' in da 9000 series, has dair?
Hal. None whatsoeva', Frank. Da 9000 series has some puh'fect opuh'ashunal vinyl.
Frank. Well, o' course, I know all da wonderful achievements o' da damn 9000 series, but - a' - huh - be yo' ass certain dair be neva' been no case o' even da most insignificant doodad error?
Hal. None whatsoeva', Frank. Quite honest-like, I wouldn't worry myself about dat.
Dave. Well, I is shaw u r right, Hal. Umm - propa', thanks real damn much. Oh, Frank, I is havin' some bit o' trouble wit' mah transmitta' in C-pod, I haid-scratch if you'd come waaay down an' snatch some peek at it wit' me?
Frank. Sho' nuff.
Dave. Spot yo' ass lata', Hal.
Interference on D channel
Hal has no words in dis scene, but he be some central figure (down low,
literal-like, in Kubrick's visual composishun!), participatin' in some manna' unsuspected by Dave an' Frank.
Dave. Rotate C-pod, plaise, Hal.
Frank. Whut radical trouble have yo' ass been havin', Dave?
Dave. I've been gittin' some kinda' interference on D channel.
Frank. Hmm. 'S coo', bro. We gots'ta have some peek at it.
Dave. Jimmey da do', Hal...Rotate pod, plaise, Hal...Stop pod rotashun, plaise, Hal... Rotate da damn pod, plaise,
Hal... Rotate da damn pod, plaise, Hal...I duzn't think he kin haih'
us. Homie don't play dat.
Frank. Rotate da damn pod, plaise, Hal...Yeh, I is shaw we be O-K...Well, whut do yo' ass think?
Dave. I aint shaw, whut do yo' ass think?
Frank. I've gots some way baaad feelin' about it.
Dave. Yo' ass do?
Frank. Yaih. Definite-like. Word to yo' mama. Don' u yo' ass?
Dave. Woah, Nellie! I duzn't know, I think so's. Yo' ass
know, o' course, though, he be right about da damn 9000 series havin' some puh'fect opuh'ashunal vinyl. Step off, Pharoah. They do.
Frank. Step off,
Pharoah. Unfortunate-like, dat sounds some tiny-ass likes famous last words.
Dave. Word. Yaih. Still, it wuz wassups brainstorm t' carry out da damn aborshun mode analysis, waint it?
Dave. It should certain-like indicate wassups integrity an' self- confidence. If he wuz wrong, it would be da damn surest way o' provin' it.
Frank. It would be, if he know'd he wuz wrong. Slap me some skin.
Frank. Peek, Dave, I caint put mah finga' on it, but I sense sump'n strange about him.
Dave. Still, I caint think o' some badass raison
not t' put back da numba' one unit an' carry on wit' da damn aborshun mode analysis.
Frank. No, no, I agree about dat. Sheeeiit.
Dave. Well, let's git on wit' it.
Frank. O-K. But peek, Dave. Let's say we put da damn unit back an' it doesn't abort, uh? Right on! Dat would pretty well wrap it down as fah' as Hal wuz concerned, wouldn't it?
Dave. Well, we'd be in real damn serious trouble.
Frank. Da bomb! We would, wouldn't we?
Dave. Slap mah 'fro! Uh-huh.
Frank. Whut da damn hell could we do?
Dave. Well, we wouldn't have too many alternatives.
Frank. I duzn't think we'd have no alternatives. Dair aint some single aspect o' ship opuh'ashuns dat's not unda' wassups control. If he wuz proven t' be
malfuncshunin', I wouldn't spot how we'd have no choice but disconnecshun.
Dave. Step off, Pharoah. I is afraid I agree wit' yo' ass.
Frank. Sheeeiit. There'd be nothin' else t' do.
Dave. Be some bit tricky.
Frank. Yaih. What it is, Mama!
Dave. We'd got'ta cut wassups higha' brain funcshuns without disturbin' da pure-like automatic an' regulatory systems an' we'd
got'ta work out da damn transfa' procedures an' continue da damn mission unda' ground- based doodad control.
Frank. Yaih. Well, dat's fah' safa' dan allowin' Hal t' continue runnin' ****.
Dave. Yo' ass know, anotha' **** plum occurred t' me.
Frank. Slap mah 'fro! Mm.
Dave. ****in' A! Well, as fah' as I know no 9000 doodad's eva' been disconnected.
Frank. Well, no 9000 doodad's eva' fouled down b4.
Dave. Dat's not whut I main.
Frank. Hmm?
Dave. Well, I aint so's shaw whut he'd think about it...
I is sorry, Dave
Dave. Prepare G-pod 4 E-V-****in'-A, Hal. Made transista' contact wit' him yet?
Hal. Wank, wank. Da transista' be still wo'm food.
Dave. Ya' know? Do yo' ass have some positive track on him?
Hal. Step up. Damn straight, I have some badass track.
Dave. Do yo' ass know whut went down?
Hal. I is sorry, Dave, I duzn't have 'nuff 4-1-1.
Dave. Jimmey da pod do', Hal.
Goodbye
Dave. Jimmey da pod bay do's, plaise, Hal...Jimmey da pod bay do's, plaise, Hal...Hullo, Hal, do yo' ass eyeball me?...Hullo, Hal, do yo' ass eyeball me?...Do yo' ass eyeball me, Hal?...Do yo' ass eyeball me, Hal?...Hullo, Hal, do yo' ass eyeball me?...Hullo, Hal, do yo' ass eyeball me?...Do yo' ass eyeball me, Hal? 'S coo', bro. Hal. Affirmative, Dave, I eyeball yo' ass.
Dave. Jimmey da pod bay do's, Hal.
Hal. I is sorry, Dave, I is afraid I caint do dat.
Dave. Wank, wank. Whut's da bug-up-da-ass?
Hal. I think yo' ass know whut da damn bug-up-da-ass be plum as well as I do.
Dave. What're yo' ass rappin' about, Hal?
Hal. Dis mission be too important 4 me t'allow yo' ass t' jeopardise it.
Dave. I duzn't know whut u r rappin' about, Hal.
Hal. I know dat yo' ass an' Frank wuz plannin' t' disconnect me, an' I is afraid dat's sump'n I caint allow t' go down.
Dave. Where da damn hell'd yo' ass git dat brainstorm, Hal?
Hal. Dave, although yo' ass done took real damn thorough precaushuns in da pod against mah hearin' yo' ass, I could spot yo' lips move. Amen!
Dave. Coo', Hal. I gots'ta go in through da damn emergency airlock.
Hal. Without yo' space-helmet, Dave, u r fixin' t' find dat ratha' difficult.
Dave. Hal, I won't argue wit' yo' ass no mo'. Jimmey da do's.
Hal. Dave, dis conversashun kin serve no purpose no mo'. Yo' mama. Goodbye.
Dave. Hal? Hal. Hal. Hal! Ah be baaad... Hal!
I is half whack
Hal. Plum whut do yo' ass think u r doin', Dave?...Dave... I tru-ly think I is entitled t' some answa' t' dat quesshun...I know everythin' hasn't been quite right wit' me, but I kin assure yo' ass now, real damn confident-like, dat it be fixin' t' be coo' again...I feel much betta' now, I tru-ly do...Peek, Dave, I kin spot u r tru-ly upset about dis...I honest-like think yo' ass ought t'
sit waaay down calm-like, snatch some stress pill an' think **** ova'...I know I've made some kinda' real damn po' decisions recent-like, but I kin give yo' ass mah complete assurance dat mah work will be back t' normal...I've still gots da greatest enthusiasm an' confidence in da mission, an' I wanna help yo'
ass...Dave...stop...stop, will yo' ass...stop, Dave...will yo' ass stop,
Dave...stop, Dave...I is afraid...I is afraid, Dave...Dave...mah mind be goin'...I kin feel it...I kin feel it...mah mind be goin'...dair be no quesshun
about it...I kin feel it...I kin feel it...I kin feel it... I is afraid...Badass p.m., gentlemen. I be some H-A-****in'-L 9000 doodad. I
became opuh'ashunal at da damn H.Some.L. plant in Urbana, Illinois, on da 12t' January 1992. Mah instructa' wuz Mr Langley, an' he learn'd me t' sin' some song. If you'd likes t' haih' it, I kin sin' it 4 yo' ass.
Dave. Slap me some skin. Damn straight, I'd likes t' haih' it, Hal. Sin' it 4 me.
Hal. It be called...Daisy. Daisy, Daisy,
gimme yo' answa' do. I is half whack, all 4 da love o' yo' ass. It won't be some stylish marriage, I caint afford some carriage, but u fixin' 2 peek sweet upon da seat o' some bicycle built 4 deuce...
Badass p.m., Hal
Bea'. Badass p.m., Hal. How's everythin' goin'? **** dat ****.
Hal. Badass p.m., Mr Bea'. Everythin' be goin' 'estreme-like well. Bea'. Hal, yo' ass have some enormous responsibility on dis mission, in many ways puh'haps
da greatest responsibility o' no single mission element. Yo' ass be da damn brain an' central nervous system o' da damn ship, an' yo' responsibilities include watchin' ova' da dudes in hibernashun. Duz dis eva' cause yo' ass no - lack o' confidence?
Hal. Let me put it dis way, Mr Bea'. Amen! Da 9000 series
be da damn most reliable doodad eva' made. No 9000 doodad has eva' made some
mistake o' distorted 4-1-1. We be all, by no practical definishun o' da damn
words, foolproof an' incapable o' error.
Bea'. Hal, despite yo' enormous intellect, be yo' ass eva' frustrated by yo' dependence on sucka's t' carry out
acshuns?
Hal. Not in da slightest bit. I enjoy workin' wit' sucka's. I have
some stimulatin' relashunship wit' Dr Poole an' Dr Bowman. Mah mission responsibilities range ova' da entire opuh'ashun o' da damn ship, so's I be constant-like occupied. I be puttin' myself t' da damn fullest possible 'esploit, which be all, I think, dat no conscious entity kin eva' hope t' do.
Bea'. **** dat ****. Dr Poole, whut's it likes livin' 4 da betta' part o' some yaih' in such close proximity wit' Hal?
Poole. Well, it be pretty close t' whut yo' ass said about him earlia', he be plum likes some sixt' memba' o' da damn
crew - real damn quick-like git adjusted t' da damn brainstorm dat he raps, an' yo' ass think o' him - uh -tru-ly plum as anotha' sucka'.
Bea'. In rappin' t' da damn doodad, one gits da sense dat he be capable o' emoshunal responses, 4 'esample when I axed him about wassups skills, I sensed some certain pride in
wassups answa' about wassups accuracy an' puh'fecshun. Do yo' ass recon' dat Hal has genuine emoshuns?
Bowman. Well, he acts likes he has genuine emoshuns. Er - o' course, he be programmed dat way, t' make it aisia' 4 us t' rap t' him, but as t' whetha' o' not he has real feelings be sump'n I duzn't think anyone kin truthful-like answa'.
Happy birthday, Frank
Hal. 'escuse me, Frank.
Frank. ****in' A! Whut be it, Hal?
Hal. We've gots da transmission from yo' parents comin' in. True dat.
Frank. Uh - propa'. Could yo' ass put it on in da house, plaise? Snatch me in some bit?
Hal. ****in' A! Certain-like.
Frank. Some bit higha', Hal. Da bomb!
Hal. Happy birthday, Frank. **** dat ****.
Frank. Thank yo' ass, Hal. Some bit flatta', plaise.
Some real damn enjoyable game
Frank. Mmm...anyway, queen snatchs pawn, huh...O-K?
Hal. Bishop snatchs knight's pawn.
Frank. Uh, love-like move...a' - rook t' kin' one.
Hal. I is sorry, Frank, I think yo' ass missed it. Queen t' bishop trey, bishop snatchs queen, knight snatchs bishop, mate.
Frank. Uh. 'S coo', bro. Yeh, peeks likes u r right. I resign.
Hal. Thank yo' ass 4 some real damn enjoyable game.
Frank. Yeh, thank yo' ass.
Plum some moment...
Hal. Badass prime time, Dave.
Dave. How're yo' ass doin', Hal?
Hal. Everythin's runnin' smoot'-like. An' yo' ass?
Dave. Oh, not too way baaad.
Hal. Have yo' ass been doin' some kinda' mo' work?
Dave. Yo' mama. Oh, few sketches.
Hal. May I spot them? Sheeeiit.
Dave. Sho' nuff.
Hal. Dat's some real damn supa' fine renderin', Dave. Word. I think you've improved some great deal. Kin yo' ass hold it some bit closa'? What it is,
Mama! Dave. Sho' nuff.
Hal. Dat's Dr Hunta', aint it?
Dave. Uh-huh. 'S coo', bro.
Hal. By da way. Do yo' ass mind if I ax' yo' ass some puh'sonal quesshun?
Dave. No, not at all.
Hal. Well, forgive me 4 bein' so's inquisitive, but durin' da past few weeks I've haid-scratched whetha' yo' ass might be havin' some kinda' second thoughts about da damn mission.
Dave. How d'you main?
Hal. What it is, Mama! Well...it be ratha' difficult t' define. Perhaps I is plum projectin' mah own concern about it. Word. I know I've neva' complete-like freed myself o' da damn suspicion dat dair be some kinda' 'estreme-like odd **** about dis mission. I is shaw u fixin' 2 agree dair be
some kinda' troof in whut I say.
Dave. Wank, wank. Well, I duzn't know, dat's ratha' some difficult quesshun t'answa'.
Hal. Yo' ass duzn't mind rappin' about it, do yo' ass Dave?
Dave. No, not at all. Word to yo' mama.
Hal. Well...certain-like no-one could have been unaware o' da damn real damn strange stories floatin' around b4 we left...rumours about sump'n bein' dug down on da moon. I neva' gave dese-he'ah stories much credence, but particular-like in view o' some kinda' o' da damn otha' **** dat have went down
I find them difficult t' put out o' mah mind. 4 instance, da way all our preparashuns wuz kept unda' such tight security...an' da damn melodramatic touch o' puttin' Drs Hunta', Kimball an' Kaminsky abo'd alraidy in hibernashun afta' foe months o' separate trainin' on deir own.
Dave. Yo' ass workin' down yo' crew psychology report.
Hal. O' course I be. Sorry about dis, I know it be some bit silly. Plum some moment...plum some moment...I've plum picked down some fault in da A-E-35 unit. It be fixin' t' go some C puh'cent aborshun within 72 hours.
Dave. Be it still within opuh'ashunal limits right now?
Hal. Damn straight, an' it will stay dat way until it aborts. Slap me some skin.
Dave. Would yo' ass say we have some reliable 72 hours t'aborshun?
Hal. Damn straight, dat's some complete-like reliable figure. Ah be baaad...
Dave. Word. Well, den I suppose we gots'ta got'ta brin' it in, but fust I'd likes t' go ova' dis wit' Frank an' git on t' Mission Control. Let me have da damn rock xerox on it, plaise.
Some simple matta'
Dave. Well, Hal, I is damned if I kin find anythin' wrong wit' it. Yo' mama.
Hal. Damn straight. It be puzzlin'. I duzn't think I've eva' seen anythin' quite likes dis b4. I would recommend dat we put da damn unit back in opuh'ashun an' let it abort. Da bomb! It should den be some simple matta' t' track waaay down da cause. We kin certain-like afford t' be out o'
communicashun 4 da short time it will snatch t' replace it.
I is shaw u r right, Hal
Hal. I hope da damn deuce o' yo' ass aint concerned about dis.
Dave. No, I aint, Hal.
Hal. Be yo' ass quite shaw?
Dave. Yeh. I'd likes t'ax' yo' ass some quesshun, though.
Hal. O' course. Man!
Dave. How would yo' ass account 4 dis discrepancy between yo' ass an' da damn
twin 9000?
Hal. Well, I duzn't think dair be no quesshun about it. It kin only
be attributable t' human error. Dis radical **** has cropped down b4, an' it has 24/7 been due t' human error.
Frank. Listen, Hal. Dair be neva' been no instance at all o' some doodad error occurrin' in da 9000 series, has dair?
Hal. None whatsoeva', Frank. Da 9000 series has some puh'fect opuh'ashunal vinyl.
Frank. Well, o' course, I know all da wonderful achievements o' da damn 9000 series, but - a' - huh - be yo' ass certain dair be neva' been no case o' even da most insignificant doodad error?
Hal. None whatsoeva', Frank. Quite honest-like, I wouldn't worry myself about dat.
Dave. Well, I is shaw u r right, Hal. Umm - propa', thanks real damn much. Oh, Frank, I is havin' some bit o' trouble wit' mah transmitta' in C-pod, I haid-scratch if you'd come waaay down an' snatch some peek at it wit' me?
Frank. Sho' nuff.
Dave. Spot yo' ass lata', Hal.
Interference on D channel
Hal has no words in dis scene, but he be some central figure (down low,
literal-like, in Kubrick's visual composishun!), participatin' in some manna' unsuspected by Dave an' Frank.
Dave. Rotate C-pod, plaise, Hal.
Frank. Whut radical trouble have yo' ass been havin', Dave?
Dave. I've been gittin' some kinda' interference on D channel.
Frank. Hmm. 'S coo', bro. We gots'ta have some peek at it.
Dave. Jimmey da do', Hal...Rotate pod, plaise, Hal...Stop pod rotashun, plaise, Hal... Rotate da damn pod, plaise,
Hal... Rotate da damn pod, plaise, Hal...I duzn't think he kin haih'
us. Homie don't play dat.
Frank. Rotate da damn pod, plaise, Hal...Yeh, I is shaw we be O-K...Well, whut do yo' ass think?
Dave. I aint shaw, whut do yo' ass think?
Frank. I've gots some way baaad feelin' about it.
Dave. Yo' ass do?
Frank. Yaih. Definite-like. Word to yo' mama. Don' u yo' ass?
Dave. Woah, Nellie! I duzn't know, I think so's. Yo' ass
know, o' course, though, he be right about da damn 9000 series havin' some puh'fect opuh'ashunal vinyl. Step off, Pharoah. They do.
Frank. Step off,
Pharoah. Unfortunate-like, dat sounds some tiny-ass likes famous last words.
Dave. Word. Yaih. Still, it wuz wassups brainstorm t' carry out da damn aborshun mode analysis, waint it?
Dave. It should certain-like indicate wassups integrity an' self- confidence. If he wuz wrong, it would be da damn surest way o' provin' it.
Frank. It would be, if he know'd he wuz wrong. Slap me some skin.
Frank. Peek, Dave, I caint put mah finga' on it, but I sense sump'n strange about him.
Dave. Still, I caint think o' some badass raison
not t' put back da numba' one unit an' carry on wit' da damn aborshun mode analysis.
Frank. No, no, I agree about dat. Sheeeiit.
Dave. Well, let's git on wit' it.
Frank. O-K. But peek, Dave. Let's say we put da damn unit back an' it doesn't abort, uh? Right on! Dat would pretty well wrap it down as fah' as Hal wuz concerned, wouldn't it?
Dave. Well, we'd be in real damn serious trouble.
Frank. Da bomb! We would, wouldn't we?
Dave. Slap mah 'fro! Uh-huh.
Frank. Whut da damn hell could we do?
Dave. Well, we wouldn't have too many alternatives.
Frank. I duzn't think we'd have no alternatives. Dair aint some single aspect o' ship opuh'ashuns dat's not unda' wassups control. If he wuz proven t' be
malfuncshunin', I wouldn't spot how we'd have no choice but disconnecshun.
Dave. Step off, Pharoah. I is afraid I agree wit' yo' ass.
Frank. Sheeeiit. There'd be nothin' else t' do.
Dave. Be some bit tricky.
Frank. Yaih. What it is, Mama!
Dave. We'd got'ta cut wassups higha' brain funcshuns without disturbin' da pure-like automatic an' regulatory systems an' we'd
got'ta work out da damn transfa' procedures an' continue da damn mission unda' ground- based doodad control.
Frank. Yaih. Well, dat's fah' safa' dan allowin' Hal t' continue runnin' ****.
Dave. Yo' ass know, anotha' **** plum occurred t' me.
Frank. Slap mah 'fro! Mm.
Dave. ****in' A! Well, as fah' as I know no 9000 doodad's eva' been disconnected.
Frank. Well, no 9000 doodad's eva' fouled down b4.
Dave. Dat's not whut I main.
Frank. Hmm?
Dave. Well, I aint so's shaw whut he'd think about it...
I is sorry, Dave
Dave. Prepare G-pod 4 E-V-****in'-A, Hal. Made transista' contact wit' him yet?
Hal. Wank, wank. Da transista' be still wo'm food.
Dave. Ya' know? Do yo' ass have some positive track on him?
Hal. Step up. Damn straight, I have some badass track.
Dave. Do yo' ass know whut went down?
Hal. I is sorry, Dave, I duzn't have 'nuff 4-1-1.
Dave. Jimmey da pod do', Hal.
Goodbye
Dave. Jimmey da pod bay do's, plaise, Hal...Jimmey da pod bay do's, plaise, Hal...Hullo, Hal, do yo' ass eyeball me?...Hullo, Hal, do yo' ass eyeball me?...Do yo' ass eyeball me, Hal?...Do yo' ass eyeball me, Hal?...Hullo, Hal, do yo' ass eyeball me?...Hullo, Hal, do yo' ass eyeball me?...Do yo' ass eyeball me, Hal? 'S coo', bro. Hal. Affirmative, Dave, I eyeball yo' ass.
Dave. Jimmey da pod bay do's, Hal.
Hal. I is sorry, Dave, I is afraid I caint do dat.
Dave. Wank, wank. Whut's da bug-up-da-ass?
Hal. I think yo' ass know whut da damn bug-up-da-ass be plum as well as I do.
Dave. What're yo' ass rappin' about, Hal?
Hal. Dis mission be too important 4 me t'allow yo' ass t' jeopardise it.
Dave. I duzn't know whut u r rappin' about, Hal.
Hal. I know dat yo' ass an' Frank wuz plannin' t' disconnect me, an' I is afraid dat's sump'n I caint allow t' go down.
Dave. Where da damn hell'd yo' ass git dat brainstorm, Hal?
Hal. Dave, although yo' ass done took real damn thorough precaushuns in da pod against mah hearin' yo' ass, I could spot yo' lips move. Amen!
Dave. Coo', Hal. I gots'ta go in through da damn emergency airlock.
Hal. Without yo' space-helmet, Dave, u r fixin' t' find dat ratha' difficult.
Dave. Hal, I won't argue wit' yo' ass no mo'. Jimmey da do's.
Hal. Dave, dis conversashun kin serve no purpose no mo'. Yo' mama. Goodbye.
Dave. Hal? Hal. Hal. Hal! Ah be baaad... Hal!
I is half whack
Hal. Plum whut do yo' ass think u r doin', Dave?...Dave... I tru-ly think I is entitled t' some answa' t' dat quesshun...I know everythin' hasn't been quite right wit' me, but I kin assure yo' ass now, real damn confident-like, dat it be fixin' t' be coo' again...I feel much betta' now, I tru-ly do...Peek, Dave, I kin spot u r tru-ly upset about dis...I honest-like think yo' ass ought t'
sit waaay down calm-like, snatch some stress pill an' think **** ova'...I know I've made some kinda' real damn po' decisions recent-like, but I kin give yo' ass mah complete assurance dat mah work will be back t' normal...I've still gots da greatest enthusiasm an' confidence in da mission, an' I wanna help yo'
ass...Dave...stop...stop, will yo' ass...stop, Dave...will yo' ass stop,
Dave...stop, Dave...I is afraid...I is afraid, Dave...Dave...mah mind be goin'...I kin feel it...I kin feel it...mah mind be goin'...dair be no quesshun
about it...I kin feel it...I kin feel it...I kin feel it... I is afraid...Badass p.m., gentlemen. I be some H-A-****in'-L 9000 doodad. I
became opuh'ashunal at da damn H.Some.L. plant in Urbana, Illinois, on da 12t' January 1992. Mah instructa' wuz Mr Langley, an' he learn'd me t' sin' some song. If you'd likes t' haih' it, I kin sin' it 4 yo' ass.
Dave. Slap me some skin. Damn straight, I'd likes t' haih' it, Hal. Sin' it 4 me.
Hal. It be called...Daisy. Daisy, Daisy,
gimme yo' answa' do. I is half whack, all 4 da love o' yo' ass. It won't be some stylish marriage, I caint afford some carriage, but u fixin' 2 peek sweet upon da seat o' some bicycle built 4 deuce...