Lisa: “Sammy! Would you be quiet for like five minutes? Does she ever shut up?”
Sam: “Guys, do you wanna take some pictures? Do you? How does this work? I took a video. See this rotten foot thing? See it. Look. Don’t you want to see this? Where is that button. Maybe if I just push this button. Mossaleena callakunia! Mossaleena! Should I try to — eehhhhhh — I’m taking a picture! Flashy flashy!”
Lisa: “Sammy! Shut up! Stop singing that Sim crap. If you don’t chill, you’re dad is going to come in here and kill that stupid Fabio in a bloody murder.”
Kristin: “Yeah, Sam. You better calm down and stop screaming.”
Sam: “Can I turn this on? Lisa, can I turn it on? Lisa. Lisa! Can I? Lisa, can I?”
Lisa: “Dude. Don’t you see that I’m not responding to you because I don’t want to hear your voice in my ear at the moment?”
Sam: “Is that a yes? Look! I turned it on. It’s amazing! It’s so amazing. Look. Look! Mossa–”
Lisa: “SHHH! If you wake him up, your dad is going to come in here and squeeze that stupid rat until its stomach pops up through its mouth and it’s little dookies are gonna come flying out of its nostrils. It’s gonna be gross. And you’re going to have to clean it up. Be quiet or you’ll be cleaning clumps of rat fat and fur off the walls and it will be nasty and it’ll take you a week to find its slimy, slimy brain because that will be the first thing to come shooting out of the top of it. I bet its brain is green. What if it lands on your pillow?”
Sam: “Fabio!”
Lisa: “I’m gonna look up pictures of the real Fabio online.”
Sam: “I wanna take pictures of Fabio! Fabio! Fabio, let’s go Fabio. Picture time. Come here you little hamster hamster.”
Kristin: “Lisa, get a picture of the hamster. It’s gonna make noises when it gets squeezed to death when she doesn’t shut up.”
Lisa: “This is the real Fabio.”
Kristin: “Scary.”
Lisa: “It says here, ‘If that guy wants to date someone Fabio hasn’t, he should date guys.’ Way to be cocky there, Fabio.”
Sam: “Fabio. Want me to squeeze you, Fabio? Want me to squeeze his throat out? I don’t like you anymore named after that man. Fabio. Get out of the dookie food Fabio. Don’t squeeze in that hole! Say cheese, Fabio.”
Lisa: “Sammy, use your indoor voices.”
Sam: “His little finger is on me! Fabio! Don’t be afraid of the flash, Fabio. FABIO! Get away from there, Fabio! Get in the picture!”
Kristin: “Sam, stop feeding that bloated rat and put it back in its cage.”
Sam: “Are you feelin’ me? I can’t imagine Fabio being squeezed. Kristin, are you feelin’ me? That’s what all the boys say – you know, all the rapper dudes.”
Lisa: “Get it out of my face!”
Sam: “Guess what. Rat butt. Guess why. Rat die.”
Kristin: “Put it away.”
Sam: “Fabio. Get out of that hole. Night Fabio. Wanna hear a lullabye? Mossaleena callakunia.”
Kristin: “Sam.”
Sam: “Bye Fobs.”
Lisa: “Sammy, don’t touch my computer.”
Sam: “I typed a ‘Q’.”
Lisa: “Dude. I’ll squeeze it. Kristin, get me the rat.”
Sam: “No, NO! FABIO. Fobs is sleepin’. Leave him alone. His name is Hootie.”
Lisa: “I thought his name was Boots.”
Sam: “His name is Hootie! HOOTIE! HOOTIE! His name is Hootie!”
Kristin: “Hootie?”
Sam: (in an indescribable low breathy voice, comparable to a barfing noise, emphasizing the first syllable of the word) “Huutie.” (slaps her chest twice)”Huutie.” (slaps her chest twice) “Huutie. HUU HUU HUUtie.” (slaps her chest twice) “HUUtie.”
Lisa & Kristin: “Shut UP!”
Sam: “Hootie.”
