- Brutus: Cyclops there, cyclops there, cyclops there, turrets, moon buggies. Oh my holy crap! Surveillance does. I hate those. This is ridiculous. That's the most well-guarded yeast factory I've ever seen.
- Chevalier: Without a doubt, the best line I've ever written is this. 'Referring to her neck, she squawked, this is not a wart! This is the chancellor of the galaxy! Now let us in!'
- Troll Girl: One of my trolls is named Teacup.
- Chevalier: Um... I don't like it. I would go with Traginus, every time.
- Troll Girl: [raises hand]
- Chevalier: Yes?
- Troll Girl: But I still like Teacup better.
- Chevalier: It's not... it's not a question of liking it better. It's just... I'm... as an author... I'm picturing myself as a troll mother, I have just given birth to a litter of troll cubs, they are covered in placentiae, pawing at my many teats for the vital, life-giving collostrum. I'm not thinking, 'Hmm... Teacup.' Am I? It's just not... believable. And if I don't believe it, the reader doesn't believe it. Tragainus, Trocacon, Trody... names in this vein. If female, Tragana.
- Brutus: Oh my holy crap, surveillance does... I hate those. This is ridiculous, that's the most well guarded yeast factory I've ever seen!
- Chevalier: You. Give me the name of one of the protagonists in one of your fantasies.
- Skinny Boy: Nebekenezer.
- Chevalier: Oh. Very original. I've heard that one before. But don't worry, need thou not be afraid, for we can turn a humdrum, forgettable name like Nebekenezer into something magical like this
- [pause]
- Chevalier: Nebekoronius. And it's that easy. We can add 'onius,' 'ainous,' or anous,' to just about anything and it becomes magical.
- Chevalier: And finally we have a young-ling trying to penetrate the secrets of the human mind. You won't do it like that young-ling... You must use friendship.
- Chevalier: Within my breast meat, there is a famine. No more sweets in the mammary cannon. You are Gorganna, my eagle, my queen. Your ovaries will destroy me. Collect me in your wings. I am just a man! And I want to breed! Together, we will learn to love, you gorgeous hag, you freak machine.
- Chevalier: Greetings and salutations. It is such an honor to be in the midst of so many juvescent, ripe minds. When I was your age, I had just completed my first trilogy, a body of work you now know as The Cyborg Harpies.
- Chevalier: This is a piece that came to me in a dream when I was eleven. I call it migration, and it depicts a fleet of harpies synchronizing their mammary cannons to create lazer rain. Hard rain's gonna fall.
- Vanaya: Our fathers fought valiantly and victoriously in the battle Shiro. I was but a child then, maybe you don't remember. When your father died at the hands of Daecius, your mother wept so hard that her milk dried. To keep you alive, we shared suckle at my mother's breast.
- Brutus: Vanaya?
- Vanaya: Tis I.
- Brutus: They got my reproductives Vanaya. Daecius is gonna build himself an army using my seed. I can't let that happen. His power has become unruly. You know how weird that'd be? A bunch of gorgeous yeast lords running around with my face? Making damned fools of themselves?
- Benjamin: So, how do I avoid situations like that? I mean, the idea of somebody bastardizing my work really freaks me out.
- Chevalier: I see. Have they paid you yet?
- Benjamin: Yeah. They gave me a check.
- Chevalier: Well, cash that check immediately. Enjoy your money. I mean, isn't that why we do what we do, dagnammit? For the money, for the riches of the earth! When the future generations will look back, do you think they will remember us for our writing? No, but for the wealth we have accumulated. Why do you think I wear this bracelet? And who knows? Perhaps these producers may create something even better than your original version.
- Chevalier: Brutus stood at the edge of the Pond and held aloft a futuristic cylinder.
- Brutus: I made us a Time Capsule, I put a butt-load of keepsakes in it... We can send it floating downstream, and that way if we die future generations will learn from us. Look at this, it's a Friendship Stone, come closer... Let's blow on it, you blow first.
- Benjamin: What?
- Tabatha: Well, you know, like all great writers, you're going to have to go through a lot of crap. But someday, you're junk will be seen by all, and it will be awesome.
- Benjamin: [narrating] The Nad Lab was a cold white room. Bronco, the last of the yeast lords lay spread eagle, strapped to a medical pod. Someone had stolen his yeast and he had gone totally apeshit.
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