Game Boys (2008)
Art: The hell kind of fucked-up Pac-Man is that?
Scott: That is Pac-Man for the Atari 2600, and apparently you guys have about twenty copies of it there.
Ray: Yeah, so use some respect, asshole!
Art: Uh, respect? It looks like ass!
Ray: Yeah, you know what? That's the goddamn fucking point!
Scott: The game is legendary for its badness. It was part of the downfall for the Atari. I men, look at that shit. Seriously, look at it. You can't see the ghosts, Pac-Man looks deformed, and he's eating rectangles. How do you fuck up one of the most simplistic games ever made?
Art: See, and this is why I don't play video games.
Ray: Yeah, you just jerk off to Samus from Metroid.
Scott: Yeah, until he found out she was a chick!
[Scott and Ray are playing The World is Not Enough for the Nintendo 64]
Ray: Alright, now, the objective of this game right here is to shoot as many of the innocent bystanders as you can before the game automatically cuts out. Leaves us about ten seconds to do it.
Scott: Hit that guy right there! Get that motherfucker!
[shoots an innocent bystander in the game]
Ray: Wrong place, wrong time, guy with luggage!
Scott: Well, she dumped me.
Scott: Because she's a fucking schizo? I don't know!
[lying down on the couch, drunk]
Scott: Oh, fuck me with a Super Scope.
[after R.O.B. drops one of his Gyros]
Steve: Butterfingers, R.O.B.!
Ray: Hey, we do not give up on this. Did General Custer give up when he was surrounded by arrows coming at him from all directions? Okay, maybe not all directions; they mainly came from the right, BUT THAT'S NOT THE POINT! He avoided those obstacles and made sweet, sweet love to those naked pixels.
Scott: Um, this may seem weird, but we're having a Custer's Revenge...
Steve: Stop! I'm in.
Ray: Do you own it?
Steve: Ask me if I have ten thousand dollars.
Scott: Do you have ten thousand dollars?
Steve: No, but I want it.
[kicks open door behind in]
Steve: Get in.
TV Repairman: Ma'am, don't worry your pretty little head. I know exactly what to do.
TV Repairman: You see, the Nintendo is just like a beautiful woman. It just needs a good beating. Am I right or am I right?
Steve: [makes cut off signals, coughs]
Nora: What the fuck did you just say?
Steve: Honey, he's going to fix the Nintendo.
Nora: No, I want this greasebag out of my house!
[the Repairman puts the Nintendo back]
TV Repairman: You must be a beautiful woman, because you need a beating.
Steve: See, honey? He called you beautiful.
Nora: I don't think that's what he meant!
[after losing Custer's Revenge once again]
Scott: This game is like life, you know? It sucks.
Scott: I taught you how to play this several times. It isn't that fucking hard!
Ray: What do you mean it's not hard? There's nothing self-explanatory about the fucking thing.
Scott: But I've showed you how to play it. You've seen me beat it. You know exactly what to do in the game!
Ray: No, I don't. The pits! The fucking pits! I rise out of the fucking pits, and guess what? I fall right back down, and it happens again, and again, and again, and, and then, then I go and I fucking die! This game is pure fucking trash!
Scott: That... is bullshit.
Scott: There are three types of people who play E.T. The first type are those who go into it knowing nothing; not knowing what any of the symbols stand for, not knowing where to go, what to do, what to avoid, and they hate it because they think that the entire point of the game is just to fall into pits and then levitate out of them. And there's people who do know how to play it, but suck at it, so they genuinely hate it. But there's people like me who say, "You try giving yourself five weeks to make a game and see if you can pull something out of your ass that is just as complex, just as intricate, and just as sweat-inducingly fucking intense!
Sally: Here, I'm giving this to you today.
Scott: Journey: Escape?
Sally: You play as all five members of the band Journey, and you have to make it to your limousine, dodging groupies, reporters, shady record dealers, and along the way, you get help from the Kool-Aid Man.
Scott: And I don't have to fight Steve Perry's mullet?
Sally: No, but you can kinda make out a bit of an Atari version of "Don't Stop Believing." Beyond that, it could be Fleetwood Mac: The Escape, and be exactly the same, but at least it's not Aerosmith Revolution X.
Scott: Yeah, and clearly this is the same person!
Ray: I never forget a face.
Scott: Looks can be deceiving, Action 52!
Ray: Yeah, I don't think she's dumb, she's just not exactly 8-bit.
Scott: Well, you guys have fun with your rectangles. I'm gonna go over to Andrea's for a little bit.
Ray: Yeah, well, make sure she doesn't stick a Sega CD into a fucking PlayStation!
Scott: Well, make sure that you don't get a seizure from the flashing ghosts.
Andrea: Look, I can't give you any more chances, okay? I tried doing that, and I was, I'm completely out of feelings for you at this point. I mean, you work at a fucking restaurant, you sleep until noon all day, and you spend the entire rest of your existence playing video games from, like, the 1940's!
Scott: Okay, first off, I only took that job because I was laid off from the newspaper. Plus, Ray manages the place. Second, I'm pretty sure that none of the games I play are from the 1940's. Not to mention the fact that I've tried cutting down on my video game playing!
Andrea: Oh, please! I called you yesterday and could hear you playing Thorn's Revenge!
Scott: It's called Yar's Revenge, and incidentally, it's one of the greatest Atari games of all time, made by the same man who brought us E.T., thank you very much.
Andrea: You're telling me Steven Spielberg made a game called Yar's Revenge.
Scott: No, no! Not Spielberg, Howard Scott Warshaw!
Scott: Three days ago, things were fine between us. What the hell happened?
Andrea: You just... you cling to me like I'm one of your video game controllers.
Scott: Huh, yeah.
[gets up to leave]
Scott: You're, you're a video game controller alright. A fucking 5200 controller!
Scott: What are you still even doing here? Aren't you just on break?
Art: [pauses, then gets up and leaves without saying a word]
Ray: I've seen you with confidence!
Scott: Yeah, when I'm drunk!
Ray: I've never seen you screw up a code!
Scott: I screwed up a Game Genie code once!
Scott: Hey, Steve. Hey, Nora. How you guys doing?
Steve: Okay, I guess, but, uh, I think my repairman beats his wife.
Nora: If that's the fucking repairman again, I'm loading your Zapper with real fucking rounds!
[after working on getting a R.O.B. to work properly for what seems like hours]
Scott: You know, the novelty of this is wearing off pretty damn fast!
[Scott enters the house]
Ray: Dude, I've got it.
Scott: Got what?
Ray: A Custer's Revenge competition.
Ray: This is our equivalent of going to a strip bar.
Scott: What? Dude, why don't we just go to a strip bar?
Ray: Dude, fuck that! Strippers in this town are dirtier than an Atari Jaguar at a fucking garage sale!
Andrea: Do you wanna go get a drink with me?
[Scott looks to see if she's talking to someone else]
Scott: Uh, do you work at a bar or something?
Andrea: Well, no, but I spent the last three hours or so memorizing the periodic table of elements, and I could use someone to have an intelligent conversation with.
Ray: Art, I don't think you understand the severity of the mound of shit that spews from that cartridge. In Superman for the NES, if you get shot, you die. Did you hear that? If you're Superman and you get shot by a speeding bullet, you fucking die in that game. You're putting your entire store at risk just by having that fucking thing in there! It'd be better off for all of us if you'd just let me have it for a lower price.
Scott: She beat the Death Score!
Art: The fuck are you talking about?
Scott: Sally said that if she beat the Death Score on Berzerk that she would join us tonight, and she beat the Death Score in about ten minutes!
Ray: You knew that the deadliest fucking game known to man would benefit your personal life?
Art: The FUCK are you talking about?
Scott: In 1981, some teenager scored 16,660 points on Berzerk, then moments later keeled over, dead, from a heart attack. The following year, the same thing happened to some other teenager, and Sally totally got 21,720 points.
Ray: Yeah, she's probably in a fucking body bag now!
Steve: I don't know what I've been told/I can't beat this game with a code!
Philip M. Wiswell: General Custer is taking his leap from the history books to your home video game system.
Steve: You know, I'm gonna have to check a history book, but I really don't think that's how it went.
Scott: Oh, come on! All he wanted was an Atari 5200!
Sally: You know, it's been proven by the authorities to be lethally dangerous to mention the 5200 around me.
Scott: 5200 was an underrated system.
Sally: 5200 was as underrated as a mass murderer.
Scott: Well, the games were classic, though!
Sally: Classic. Alright, finish this thought for me. The biggest problem with the 5200 was...
Scott: Uh, the shitty controllers?
Sally: Right, the shitty controllers. Games on that system could have been on the same level of Mario 3 or Excitebike, but who cares how good the game is gonna be on a system when you can't even play it on the goddamn shit controllers?
Scott: But look, even you dated girls before who wanted part of Simon Belmont or Mega Man. Look at Brenda; she fucking hated video games.
Ray: She did give me head during Super Mario Bros. 3.
[flash back to Ray playing Super Mario Bros. 3 ecstatically]
Ray: Yes, yes, yes, YES, YES, YES!
[Brenda's head lifts up from his lap]
Brenda: Uh, are you almost done?
Ray: I just got the third star. That's five extra lives!
Ray: [cut to present] And I fucking beat that game, too.
Scott: You've been beating that game since you were nine!
Ray: Yeah, but I haven't been getting blowjobs since I was nine!
Scott: Oh no, just handjobs!
Scott: Everything now is just so dumbed down. I mean, grab any new game that you want. If you can't beat that fucking thing in two weeks, you might as well chop off your fucking hands! I mean, give me a game that is such a difficult son of a bitch to beat that not only do I question the existence of the game Gods, but that I think that they are such fucking assholes that they make me start all the way back to the beginning of the level, even though I was this fucking close to making it to the end. Give me fucking Kid Icarus!
Ray: Here, here-icus!
Steve: I can't believe you spilled Pepsi on my TV.
Nora: Give me a break! It was a fucking Crystal Pepsi!
Steve: That cost me $20 on eBay and it was still delicious, thank you very much.
Nora: It was flat and piss-yellow!
Steve: That's the high price for a tasty beverage, my sweet.
Scott: Okay, plug me in. You have yourself a second player.
Ray: You better rest up, cowboy. We've got an Indian princess to find... tomorrow.
Sally: You have an easier time asking people that you don't really like, don't you?
Scott: Yes I do!
Sally: Figured as much.
Philip M. Wiswell: General Custer is making his leap from the history books to your home video game system.
Steve: You know, I'm gonna have to check a history book, but I really don't think that's how it went.
Philip M. Wiswell: This is the granddaddy of wild west hoedowns; the game that is sure to cause a nation-wide game shortage all across America. And it is also the game that cannot be conquered, no matter how high the stamina of the player. The object of the game is to move General George Custer out of harm's way from the dangerous oncoming arrows, and right into the arms of his fair Indian maiden. If you get hit by one of the many arrows, your life won't be the only thing in the game that goes limp. Be careful for that oncoming chill as well. You'll want to move to the warmth and comfort of that naked flesh without wasting any valuable time.
Scott: What fucking oncoming chill?
Philip M. Wiswell: You build up one point for every thrust, but don't be too sure of yourself once you get that perfect rhythm. After scoring fifty thrusts, the arrows begin coming at you harder and faster. Looks like the oncoming attackers are jealous of your smooth-taking moves! The only way to get the attackers back is to prove your own skill to be harder and faster. you get one extra life for every fifty points, but use them wisely, as men are not physically equipped to handle the multiple orgasm.
Steve: He's got us there!
Philip M. Wiswell: You may think to yourself, "Should I stop to let her breathe or pack her down with ice?" There's no need to fear, because as long as she keeps smiling, you're in good hands. Yup. Still smiling!
Ray: Well, that's a relief!
Scott: I'll tell you what happens when we get past 5,000 on Custer's Revenge: we go straight to Hell.
Steve: Yeah, but the video game kind of Hell. The kind of Hell where they make you play Deadly Towers with the Roll 'n' Rocker.
Steve: It was horrible, you guys. Now I know what 'Nam mus've been like.