#turbotasktic

Yeah yeah yeah, keep TELLIN’ yerself that, Art-it. Don’t go cryin’ behind my back an’ lyin’ta my face now: Ya missed me, an’ ya just don’t got the bits ta’admit it~. Still playin’ hard ta’get after all this time, ain’t’cha? Too bad ya’ve always been the pits ‘bout hidin’ it: I know when someone’s got a thing fer me, an’ yer just too much of a baby t’admit I’M right!!

"If yer tryin’ta butter me up fer the Gullible Prix, it ain’t gonna work, blockheads." There’s a sneer in there somewhere. "Maybe you two ain’t such gas-chuggin’ losers after all. Thanks."

Pf, so’s a lot’a dames. Ya gotta get in line, ‘cause I got tons’a babes just wishin’ ta’throw their arms ‘round this uber cool dude. 

“Aww, whadd’ya know: one’a my favorite last-place-lappin’ losers decided ta’poke his ungrateful head outta his pile a’ bronze. Still dreamin’ a’ outracin’ me, chump?”

“Yeah, I friggin’ counted. I’d asked what the heck ya need, but lemme guess, lemme guess—ya woke up this mornin’ an’ told yerself, ‘man, if I don’t get’ta breathe some’a Turbo’s totally uber cool air today, I’m gonna drop right there an’ hit Game Over’?”

(( s-screams!!! ))

JEEZ, yer more brainless than freakin’ WRECK-IT a’ all people. Why in the name a’ score-slippin’ Pong would I want’ta sleep ‘round with a bunch’a sloppy seconds?! ‘Mean, sure, heh, gettin’ a’ couple ‘rounds with a totally smokin’ babes s’nice an’ all~—…. but I ain’t like, LEARNIN’ GAME EASY OVER HERE!! I’ve got STANDARDS, GEEZ. Whadd’a I friggin’ look like, that salmon-suckin’, ‘sassy’ disgrace ta’my righteous name or somethin’?!

Yeah right, get REAL; my game ain’t an easy trip’ta the gold cup like that knock-off, barely-movin’ racin’ game fer grannies!