Nyarlathotep: Hey Randolph, spell “me”

Randolph: Okay…? M-E

Nyarlathotep: You forgot the “d”

Randolph: There’s no “d” in me

Nyarlathotep: Not yet~

[making a dating profile for Pickman]

Randolph: What are some of your likes?

Pickman: Uhh… ghouls.

Harley: Son of a bitch. What are you talking about now?

Pickman: You know, funny little green ghouls.

Randolph: W-What, like in movies, in cartoons?

Pickman: Little green ghouls, buddy!

Harley: Don’t write ghouls!

Randolph: I’m putting “travel”!

Pickman: *Walks into the bedroom and flicks the light switch on* WAKE UP SLEEPY HEAD!

Randolph: *Jolts awake* ???

Nyarlathotep: *Sits up from behind Randolph, just woke up* Fuck man?

Pickman: *Runs out of the room, covering his mouth and laughing*

“This door should be half its height so people can only approach me in my throne room on their goddamn motherfucking KNEES!”

— Nyarlathotep

Kuranes: You want to hear about my trip to the outer void?

Carter: Oh, yeah!

Kuranes: … It was indescribable.

Carter: Sounds awesome.

Harley Warren: Yeah I'm working on a medley of all 17 Pokémon theme songs

Randolph Carter, internally: Ohh, I can't /not/ fuck him...

Edward Derby: Daniel this is weird what do I do

Daniel Upton: You like this girl, right?

Edward Derby: Yeah but Daniel

Daniel Upton: She wants your sickly poet body

Edward Derby: Yeah Daniel but

Daniel Upton: But what?

Edward Derby: Gender swap deep one

Daniel Upton: Deep Vagánia

Edward Derby:

Edward Derby, running off: Okay thanks

Daniel Upton: Maybe two

Edward Derby: Okay thanks Daniel

Daniel Upton: Imagine

Ghatanothoa, imprisoned under Yhaddith-Gho: Ah, what am I worried about? I got plenty of friends! I can name three right off the bat! -he holds up three fingers- Uh... -he draws faces on his fingers-

Ghatanothoa, now on the verge of tears: The gang's all here...

What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I am the soul and messenger and the top intelligence of the Outer Gods, and I’ve been involved in numerous attacks on the minor gods of Earth, and I have over 300 confirmed annihilations. I am trained in the dream world and I’m the top destroyer of life in the entire galaxy. You are nothing to me but just another sacrifice. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before in this dimension, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with writing that shit about me in a grimoire? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of cults across the world and your existence is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred forms, and that’s without any sacrifices. Not only am I extensively trained in tentacle combat, but I am the god of every cult to the Crawling Chaos and I will use them to their full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking pen. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo.

Hastur: I mean, they were historically common until recently.

Shub-Niggurath: Historically recently?

Yog-Sothoth: Are we still talking about anvils?

Hastur: Yes, where did all the anvils go? They were featured prominently in every movie Western, so where did they all go?

Nug: Is there some secret anvil storage facility the government is keeping from us?

Tsathoggua: Or they fell into disuse with the advent of other technologies and so they melted them down and they're gone.

Yeb: But they're not supposed to melt! They're made to withstand the red-hot hammer of the town blacksmith.

Idh-yaa: This is easily the most pointless conversation we've ever had.

Yhoundeh: He's lying. He doesn't have any poison on him.

Nyarlathotep: No I don't have any on me. But I do keep some in my fridge at home in the relish jar.

Hastur: There's poison in that jar? I thought I was allergic to pickles.

Yig: What's in the jar with the skull and crossbones?

Nyarlathotep: Oh that's mayonnaise, that's a decoy.

Yog-Sothoth: And the mayo?

Nyarlathotep: That's shampoo.

Yog-Sothoth: You're telling me I've been putting shampoo on my sandwiches?

Nyarlathotep: If you're using the mayonnaise, yeah, probably.

I hate when people are actually prepared for a test. Like, who do you think you are? Someone who actually has their life together? That is not acceptable.

Richard Pickman

Nyarlathotep: For this mission, I wore the perfect disguise to make sure I was never noticed by anyone. Something so drab and uninspiring-

Yog-Sothoth: I feel as though this is going to be a dig at me.

Nyarlathotep: I wore Yog-Sothoth's clothes.

Yog-Sothoth: There it is.

Cain: What do you call sabotage and vandalism?

Herbert: A hobby.

Cain: *silence*

Herbert: …that we do not engage in.

Pickman: Is anyone else scared?

Randolph: Not really. I've already lived longer than I expected.

Harley: For self-defense reasons, i’m going to pretend to be a burglar and you guys have to act wisely.

Randolph: Okay.

Pickman: Sure.

Harley: If you want to live give me all your money!

Pickman: Bold of you to assume that I have money.

Randolph: Bold of you to assume I want to live.

Harley:

Shub-Niggurath: Cool girls are everywhere, but it’s such a challenge to find one guy that’s like, mildly interesting to talk to. It’s like they all have the personality of an actual Adidas sandal.

Hastur: Maybe you’re just a bitch.

Shub-Niggurath: I mean, I definitely am, but you’re still boring.