Fcryan.msg

{100}{}{You see a partially head-shaven punk.} {101}{}{You see Ryan, Font of All Wisdom.} {102}{}{You see a punk who has an air of cockiness and laughter about him.} {103}{}{You gotta fight through that shit, man.} {104}{}{This place is a shit hole.} {105}{}{I'm gonna do you until you bleed. Sorry, was that out loud?} {106}{}{Ay carumba! Nalgas con queso!} {107}{}{Woo hoo hoo hoo hoo!} {108}{}{I'm outta here.} {109}{}{I knew Big Jesus Mordino when he was Baby Jesus.} {110}{}{Jesus Mary Mother of God!} {111}{}{I am a producer. I make games. Games are fun. Play my games.} {112}{}{Buy flamers for flamers.} {113}{}{They call me... THE POLISH HAMMER.} {114}{}{I came to San Fran to make some games and kick some ass.} {115}{}{Summer lovin'...} {116}{}{Hola, senor! Or is it senorita?} {117}{}{Tee hee!} {118}{}{Man... this place is like a promise made in Stockton - all wind and no action.} {119}{}{My friend Scott thought the capital of Old California was Stockton. Promise!} {120}{}{I'd like to blow some hot goo on Chip.} {121}{}{Dude!} {122}{}{Awww, come ON!} {123}{}{Aggro-suuuuuuuuuurge!} {124}{}{Don't make me put the mosh face on.} {125}{}{Yeah, right?} {126}{}{Exactly, sir. Heh heh heh.}