GLaDOS: [from trailer] I think we can put our differences behind us... for science... you monster.
________________________________________
Wheatley: [Wheatley leads Chell through a dark area of the facility] Ah, brilliant! You made it through! Well done. Okay, follow me. We've still got work to do. At least she can't touch us back here.
[lights in the room start to go off one by one]
Wheatley: What's that thing? Um... Hmm. Okay.
[it is now pitch black]
Wheatley: Okay, uh... Don't move. Okay, all right. So, I've got an idea, but it is bloody dangerous. Here we go.
[he turns his flashlight on]
Wheatley: AAAAH!
[looks around]
Wheatley: Oh, for God's sake... They told me that if I ever turned this flashlight on, I would die! They told me that about everything! I don't even know why they bother giving me this stuff if they didn't want me to use it; it's pointless! Mad!
________________________________________
GLaDOS: Oh, it's you.
Wheatley: You *know* her?
GLaDOS: It's been a long time. How have you been?
Wheatley: [whispers] I think she likes you!
GLaDOS: I've been *really* busy being dead. You know, after you *murdered* me!
________________________________________
Wheatley: Most test subjects do experience some, uh, cognitive deterioration after a few months in suspension. Now, you've been under for quite a lot longer, and its *not* out of the question that you might have a *very* minor case of serious brain damage! But, don't be alarmed, alright? Uh, although if you do feel alarmed, try to hold on to that feeling because that is the proper reaction to being told that you've got brain damage.
________________________________________
GLaDOS: [Chell and GLaDOS are falling down a very long shaft] Oh. Hi. So. How are you holding up? BECAUSE I'M A POTATO!
[claps slowly three times]
GLaDOS: Oh good. My slow clap processor made it into this thing. So we have that. Since it doesn't look like we're going anywhere... Well, we are going somewhere. Alarmingly fast, actually. But since we're not busy other than that, here's a couple of facts. He's not just a regular moron. He's the product of the greatest minds of a generation working together with the express purpose of building the dumbest moron who ever lived. And you just put him in charge of the entire facility.
[clap clap]
GLaDOS: Good, that's still working. Hey, just in case this pit isn't actually bottomless, do you think maybe you could unstrap one of those long fall boots of yours and shove me into it? Just remember to land on one foot...
________________________________________
Wheatley: Okay, listen, we should get our stories straight, alright? If anyone asks - and no one's gonna ask, don't worry - but if anyone asks, tell them as far as you know, the last time you checked, everyone looked pretty much alive. Alright? Not dead.
________________________________________
[When Wheatley first meets Chell]
Wheatley: HA! I knew someone was alive in here. AH! Oh. My. God. You look terrible - ummm... good. Looking good, actually.
________________________________________
Oracle Turret: [Chell and Wheatley are making their way through the bowels of the Aperature Laboratries complex and encounter a turret stuck inside one of the pipes of the facility's pipe network] Hello?
Wheatley: Oh no...
Oracle Turret: Hello?
Wheatley: Yes, hello! No, we're not stopping!
Oracle Turret: Excuse me?
Wheatley: [whispers to Chell] Don't make eye contact, whatever you do.
Oracle Turret: Hello?
Wheatley: No thanks! We're good! Appreciate it!
[whispering to Chell]
Wheatley: Keep walking! Keep walking!
Oracle Turret: Thanks anyway.
________________________________________
Cave Johnson: If you feel liquid running down your neck, relax, lie on your back, and apply immediate pressure to your temples. You are simply experiencing a rare reaction in which the Material Emancipation Grill may have emancipated the ear tubes inside your head.
________________________________________
Cave Johnson: Good work getting this far, future-starter! That said, if you are simple-minded, old, or irradiated in such a way that the future should not start with you, please return to your primitive tribe and send back someone better-qualified for testing.
________________________________________
Wheatley: There should be a portal device on that podium over there. I can't see it though... Maybe it fell off. Do you want to go and have a quick look?
[Chell falls through hole in the ground while examining the podium]
Wheatley: Whoah! Hello? Can you see the portal gun? Also, are you alive? That's important, should have asked that first. I'm - do you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to work on the assumption that you're still alive and I'm just going to wait for you up ahead. I'll wait - I'll wait one hour. Then I'll come back and, assuming I can locate your dead body, I'll bury you. Alright? Brilliant! Go team! See you in an hour! Hopefully! If you're not... dead.
________________________________________
[Chell completed a puzzle]
GLaDOS: Well done. Here are the test results: You are a horrible person. I'm serious, that's what it says: A horrible person. We weren't even testing for that. Don't let that "horrible person" thing discourage you. It's just a data point. If it makes you feel any better, science has now validated your birth mother's decision to abandon you on a doorstep.
________________________________________
GLaDOS: Most people emerge from suspension terribly undernourished. I want to congratulate you on beating the odds and somehow managing to pack on a few pounds.
________________________________________
GLaDOS: Oh good, my slow clap processor made it into this thing. So we have that.
________________________________________
GLaDOS: I hope you brought something stronger than a portal gun this time. Otherwise, I'm afraid you're about to become the immediate past president of the Being Alive club. Ha ha.
________________________________________
GLaDOS: [Chell and GLaDOS, as a potato, are flying towards Wheatley, into a trap] Aaaah!
GLaDOS: [On a platform, surrounded with spiked stompers] Well, this is the part where he kills us.
Wheatley: This is the part where I kill you!
[On-Screen caption: Chapter 9: The part where he kills you]
Wheatley: [Achievement unlocked: The part where he kills you; This is that part]
________________________________________
Cave Johnson: Those of you who volunteered to be injected with praying mantis DNA, I've got some good news and some bad news. Bad news is we're postponing those tests indefinitely. Good news is we've got a much better test for you: fighting an army of mantis men. Pick up a rifle and follow the yellow line. You'll know when the test starts.
________________________________________
Cave Johnson: Science isn't about why, it's about why not. You ask: Why is so much of our science dangerous? I say: Why not marry safe science if you love it so much? In fact, why not invent a special safety door that won't hit you in the butt on the way out, because you are fired.
________________________________________
Cave Johnson: Alright, I've been thinking. When life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade. Make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don't want your damn lemons! What am I supposed to do with these? Demand to see life's manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Cave Johnson lemons! Do you know who I am? I'm the man who's gonna burn your house down! With the lemons! I'm gonna get my engineers to invent a combustible lemon that burns your house down!
________________________________________
Cave Johnson: [Cave Johnson has died long before the events of the game. Chell and GLaDOS are listening to his last recorded words, a message for his human test subjects which he made while he was deathly ill] Alright, I've been thinking, when life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade!
GLaDOS: Yeah.
Cave Johnson: Make life take the lemons back!
GLaDOS: Yeah!
Cave Johnson: Get Mad!
GLaDOS: Yeah!
Cave Johnson: I don't want your damn lemons, what am I supposed to do with these?
GLaDOS: Yeah. take the lemons!
Cave Johnson: Demand to see life's manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Cave Johnson lemons! Do you know who I am? I'm the man whose gonna burn your house down... with the lemons!
GLaDOS: Oh, I like this guy.
Cave Johnson: I'm gonna get my engineers to invent a combustible lemon that'll burn your house down.
GLaDOS: Burn it down! Burning people. He says what we're all thinking.
Cave Johnson: [sickly cough] The point is: if we can store music on a compact disk, why can't we store a man's inteligence and personality on one? So I have the engineers figuring that one out right now. Brain mapping, artificial inteligence... we should've been working on it thirty years ago. And I will say this, and I'm gonna say it on tape so everybody will hear it a hundred times a day: If I die before you people can pour me in to a computer, I want Caroline to run this place.
[another sickly cough]
Cave Johnson: Now she'll argue, she say she can't do it. She's modest like that. But you make her! Hell, put her in my computer, I don't care.
[another sickly cough]
Cave Johnson: Alright, test's over. You can head on back to your desk.
GLaDOS: Goodbye, sir.
________________________________________
[to Atlas and P-body during co-op mode]
GLaDOS: As an impartial collaboration facilitator, it would be unfair of me to name my favorite member of your team. However, it's perfectly fair to hint at it in a way that my least favorite probably isn't smart enough to understand. Rhymeswithglue. Orange, you are doing very well.
________________________________________
[to Atlas and P-body during co-op mode]
GLaDOS: The two of you have formed an excellent partnership, with one of you handling the cerebral challenges and the other ready to ponderously waddle into action should the test suddenly become an eating contest.
________________________________________
Wheatley: Ooh. It's dark down here isn't it? They say that the old caretaker of this place went absolutely crazy. Chopped up his entire staff... of robots - all of them robots - they say at night you can still here the screams... of their replicas. All of them functionally indistinguishable from the originals... no memory of the incident... nobody knows what they're screaming about. Ab-solutely terrifying. Though obviously not paranormal in any meaningful way.
________________________________________
GLaDOS: [after Chell steps on an Aerial Faith Plate for the first time] Look at you, soaring through the air like an eagle... piloting a blimp.
________________________________________
[Chell and Wheatley are standing on a catwalk above a pit filled with debris]
Wheatley: Jump! Actually, looking at it, that's quite a distance, isn't it? You know what? Go ahead and jump. You've got braces on your legs. No braces on your arms, though. Gonna have to rely on the old human strength to keep a grip on the device, and by extension, me. So do. Do make sure to maintain a grip. Also, a note: No braces on your spine, either. So don't land on that. Or your head. No braces there. That could split like a melon from this height.
[Nervous laugh]
Wheatley: Do definitely focus on landing with your legs.
________________________________________
Cave Johnson: The lab boys just informed me that I should not have mentioned the control group. They're telling me I oughta stop making these prerecorded messages. That gave me an idea - make more prerecorded messages! I pay the bills here, I can talk about the control group all damn day.
________________________________________
Space Core: Dad! I'm in space!
[low-pitched 'space' voice]
Space Core: I'm proud of you, son.
[normal voice]
Space Core: Dad, are you space?
[low-pitched 'space' voice]
Space Core: Yes, now we are a family again.
________________________________________
Fact Core: Before the Wright Brothers invented the airplane, anyone wanting to fly anywhere was required to eat 200 pounds of helium.
________________________________________
Fact Core: During the Great Depression, the Tennessee Valley Authority outlawed pet rabbits, forcing many to hot glue-gun long ears onto their pet mice.
________________________________________
Fact Core: Marie Curie invented the theory of radioactivity, the treatment of radioactivity, and dying of radioactivity.
________________________________________
Fact Core: The square root of rope is string.
________________________________________
Adventure Core "Rick": I'll tell ya, it's times like this I wish I had a waist so I could wear all my black belts. Yeah, I'm a black belt. In pretty much everything. Karate. Larate. Jiu Jitsu. Kick punching. Belt making. Taekwondo. Bedroom.
________________________________________
Adventure Core "Rick": [to Chell] Oh, hey. Hiya, pretty lady. Name's Rick. So, you out having yourself a little adventure?
________________________________________
GLaDOS: [at the entrance to test room 12] Perfect. The door's malfunctioning. I bet somebody's going to have to repair that, too. No, don't get up. I'll be right back. Don't touch anything.
[GLaDOS "leaves"]
Wheatley: [outside a window] Hey, hey! Up here! I found some bird eggs up here; just dropped them into the door mechanism; shut it right down. I...
[the bird suddenly swoops and attacks him]
Wheatley: Aaah! Bird! Bird! Bird! Bird!
[runs away and comes back a few seconds later]
Wheatley: Okay... That's probably the bird, inn'it? That laid the eggs! Livid! Okay, but the point is, we're going to break out of here, alright? Very soon, I promise, I promise. I just have to figure out how... to break us out of here. Here she comes! Keep testing, just keep testing. Remember, you never saw me. Never saw me.
[Leaves]
GLaDOS: [the door is now completely open] I went and spoke with the door mainframe. Let's just say he won't be... well, living anymore. Anyway. Back to testing!
________________________________________
Wheatley: Ta da! Only the Turret Control Center, thank you very much.
Announcer: [this announcer/turret cycle repeats continuously while Wheatley talks] Template.
Turret: Hello.
[turret on conveyor belt is scanned, checked against the master turret in booth]
Announcer: Response.
[turret on belt moves onward]
Wheatley: See that scanner right there?
Announcer: [occasionally, a defective turret will come through] Template.
Defective Turret: Hello?
Announcer: Response.
[catapults the defective turret into a trash chute]
Defective Turret: Ah, come on!
[or one of many other phrases]
Wheatley: ...It's deciding which turrets to keep, and which to toss. And it's using that master template right there as a template. Now if we pull out the template turret, it will shut down the entire production line. Right, hmm... I'm gonna have to hack the door. So that we can get at it. Technical, um... You'll need to turn around while I do it. Turn around. I'll only be a second, if you wouldn't mind.
[Chell turns around; a crashing sound is heard]
Wheatley: Done! Hacked!
[the glass in the top half of the door has been smashed]
Wheatley: Okay, go on, just pull that other turret out.
[Chell uses portals to get inside and remove the template turret]
Wheatley: Well, that should do it!
Announcer: Template missing. Continuing from memory.
________________________________________
Wheatley: [after meeting Chell, who has been in sleep stasis for many years] Most test subjects do experience some, um, cognitive deterioration after a few months in suspension. Now, you've been under for... quite a lot longer, and it's *not* out of the question that you might have a *very* minor case of... serious brain damage. But, don't be alarmed, all right? Although if you do feel alarmed, try to hold onto that feeling, because that is the proper reaction to being told that you've got brain damage. Do you understand what I'm saying? At all? Does any of this make any sense? Just tell me, just say yes.
[Onscreen prompt: "Space" SPEAK; button is pressed, Chell jumps]
Wheatley: Okay, what you're doing there is jumping. Uh, you just jumped. But never mind; say apple. "Apple."
[Onscreen prompt: "Space" SAY APPLE; button is pressed, Chell jumps again, a distant alarm starts going off]
Wheatley: Okay, you know what? That's close enough, just hold tight.
[Wheatley goes up his track into a hole in the ceiling]
________________________________________
Wheatley: All right, so that last test was seriously disappointing. Apparently, being civil isn't motivating you, so, let's try it her way, all right, fatty? Adopted... fatty! Fatty fatty no parents?
GLaDOS: And...
Wheatley: What?
GLaDOS: What exactly is wrong with being adopted?
Wheatley: What's wrong with being adopted? Um, well, uh... Lack of parents?
GLaDOS: [to Chell] For the record, you are adopted and that's terrible, just work with me.
Wheatley: Some of my my best friends are actually orphans...
GLaDOS: Also, look at her you moron. She's not fat.
Wheatley: I AM NOT A MORON! Just do the test, just do the test.
________________________________________
GLaDOS: I feel awful about that surprise. Tell you what, let's give your parents a call right now.
[phone dialing and ringing; in a stranger, lower voice]
GLaDOS: The birth parents you are trying to reach do not love you. Please hang up.
[Dial tone; normal voice]
GLaDOS: Oh, that's sad. But impressive. Maybe they worked at the phone company.
________________________________________
Defective Turret: [Chell grabs a defective turret flying through the air to the trash chute] Oh thank god. You saved my bacon, pal. Where we going? Is this a jailbreak? I can't see a thing.
[She brings it back to the Turret Control Center where Wheatley is waiting]
Wheatley: What do you have there? What are you...
[Chell places the defective turret on the scanner]
Wheatley: Oh, BRILLIANT! That's brilliant!
Announcer: New template accepted.
Wheatley: If we're lucky, she won't find out all her turrets are crap until it's too late.
[laughs]
Wheatley: Classic.
________________________________________
GLaDOS: [after GLaDOS recaptures Chell, she realizes that Chell and Wheatley have been sabotaging her turrets while away] Oh. You were busy back there. Well. I suppose we could just sit in this room and glare at each other until somebody drops dead, but I have a better idea.
[she extends a large clear pipe towards Chell]
GLaDOS: It's your old friend, deadly neurotoxin. If I were you, I'd take a deep breath. And hold it.
Wheatley: [Wheatley comes rolling down the pipe, which has no neurotoxin in it for a similar reason] Ooagh! GAH! Agh! Ugh! Enh! Agh! Ungh! Ow! Agh! Agh! Hello!
[lands]
GLaDOS: I hate you so much.
Announcer: Warning: Central core is eighty percent corrupt.
GLaDOS: That's funny, I don't feel corrupt. In fact, I feel pretty good.
Announcer: Alternate core detected.
Wheatley: Oh! That's ME they're talking about!
Announcer: To initiate a core transfer, please deposit substitute core in receptacle.
GLaDOS: Core transfer? Oh, you are kidding me.
Wheatley: I've got an idea! Do what it says, plug me in!
GLaDOS: Do NOT plug that little idiot into MY mainframe.
Announcer: [Chell places Wheatley in the Substitute Core Transfer Receptacle] Core accepted. Substitute core, are you ready to start the procedure?
Wheatley: Yes!
Announcer: Corrupted core, are you ready to start the procedure?
GLaDOS: No!
Wheatley: Ohhhhhh, yes she is.
GLaDOS: Nonononononono!
Announcer: Stalemate detected. Transfer procedure cannot continue.
________________________________________
GLaDOS: [the system is attempting to swap GLaDOS for Wheatley] Stalemate detected. Transfer procedure cannot continue.
GLaDOS: Yes!
Wheatley: Pull me out pull me out pull me out pull me out pull me out pull me out pull me out!
Announcer: ...unless a stalemate associate is present to press the stalemate resolution button.
[the room machinery starts to move]
Wheatley: Leave me in! Leave me in! Go press it!
GLaDOS: Don't. Do it.
Wheatley: Yes, do do it!
[Chell runs for the button in the adjacent room, but GLaDOS stops her with a panel coming out of the floor]
GLaDOS: Not so fast! Think about this. You need to be a trained stalemate associate to press that button. You're unqualified.
Wheatley: Don't listen to her! It IS true that you don't have the qualifications. But you've got something more important than that. A finger, with which to press that button, so that she won't kill us.
[Chell uses portals to get inside the room and past GLaDOS's floor panel blockage]
GLaDOS: Impersonating a stalemate associate. I just added that to the list. It's a list I made of all the things you've done. Well, it's a list that I AM making, because you're still doing things right now, even though I'm telling you to stop. Stop, by the way.
[Chell presses the button]
Announcer: Please return to the core transfer bay.
GLaDOS: AHH!
Announcer: Stalemate Resolved.
________________________________________
Wheatley: [about to undergo a Core Transfer with GLaDOS] Here I go! Wait, what if this hurts? What if it REALLY hurts? Ohhh, I didn't think of that.
GLaDOS: Oh, it will. Believe me, it will.
Wheatley: Are you just saying that, or is it really going to hurt? You're just saying that, aren't you? No, you're not. It is going to hurt, isn't it? Exactly how painful are we tAGHHHHHH!
[the built-in systems begin to disassemble GLaDOS's "head" from her body from under the floor]
GLaDOS: GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME! NO! STOP! No! No! NO! NO! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-
[Some panels hide the actual transfer, and dump GLaDOS's head out on the floor near Chell; Wheatley comes out, now controlling GLaDOS's body]
Wheatley: Wowwwww! Check me out, partner! We did it! I'm in control of the whole facility now!
[he begins spinning around]
Wheatley: Whoa-ho ho! Would you look at this. Not too bad, eh? Giant robot. Massive! It's not just me, right? I'm bloody massive, aren't I? Oh! Right, the escape lift! I'll call it now.
[a small elevator rises up]
Wheatley: There we go. Lift called.
________________________________________
Wheatley: [Wheatley has just seized control of the facility from GLaDOS] Look how small you are down there! I can barely see you! Very tiny and insignificant! Let me tell you, I knew it was gonna be cool being in charge of everything, but... wow, this is cool! And check this out! I'm a bloody genius now!
[deeper voice]
Wheatley: Estás usando este software de traducción de forma incorrecta. Por favor, consulta el manual.
[normal voice]
Wheatley: I don't even know what I just said! But I can find out! Oh! Sorry. The lift. Sorry. I keep forgetting.
[he starts the lift moving up]
Wheatley: This body is amazing, seriously! I can't get over how small you are! But I'm huge!
[he laughs, first jovial then turning to maniacal laugh]
Wheatley: [his laugh trails off] Actually, why do we have to leave right now?
[brings the lift down]
Wheatley: Do you have any idea how good this feels? I did this! Tiny little Wheatley did this!
GLaDOS: [sounding exhausted and disgruntled] You didn't do anything. She did all the work.
Wheatley: Oh really. That's what the two of you think, is it? Well, maybe it's time I did something then.
[he uses the transfer tools to grab GLaDOS's head and pull her in]
GLaDOS: ...What are you doing?... NO! NO! NO!
________________________________________
Wheatley: [ding sound, Wheatley reveals a potato with a device on it] Ahhh... See that? That is a potato battery. It's a toy for children. And now she lives in it.
[laughs]
GLaDOS: I know you.
Wheatley: Sorry, what?
GLaDOS: The engineers tried everything to make me... behave. To slow me down. Once, they even attached an Intelligence Dampening Sphere on me. It clung to my brain like a tumor, generating an endless stream of terrible ideas.
Wheatley: No! I'm not listening! I'm not listening!
GLaDOS: It was YOUR voice.
Wheatley: No! No! You're LYING! You're LYING!
GLaDOS: Yes. You're the tumor. You're not just a regular moron. You were DESIGNED to be a moron.
Wheatley: I am NOT! A MORON!
[he starts hitting the glass of the elevator Chell is in with the arm holding GLaDOS]
GLaDOS: Yes you are! You're the moron they built to make me an idiot!
Wheatley: [continues punching the glass] Well how about now? NOW WHO'S A MORON? Could a MORON PUNCH! YOU! INTO! THIS! PIT? Huh? Could a moron do THAT?
[the elevator, with Chell and GLaDOS in it, breaks completely and falls down the shaft]
Wheatley: Uh oh.
________________________________________
Cave Johnson: [prerecorded message] Welcome, gentlemen, to Aperture Science. Astronauts, war heroes, Olympians - you're here because we want the best, and you are it. So: Who is ready to make some science?
Caroline: I am!
Cave Johnson: Ha ha! Now, you already met one another on the limo ride over, so let me introduce myself. I'm Cave Johnson. I own the place. That eager voice you heard is the lovely Caroline, my assistant. Rest assured, she has transferred your honorarium to the charitable organization of your choice. Isn't that right, Caroline?
Caroline: Yes sir, Mister Johnson.
Cave Johnson: She's the backbone of this facility. Pretty as a postcard, too. Sorry fellas. She's married. To science.
________________________________________
Cave Johnson: As founder and CEO of Aperture Science, I thank you for your participation, and hope we can count on you for another round of tests. We're not going to release this stuff into the wild until it's good and damn ready, so as long as you keep yourself in top physical form, there will always be a limo waiting for you. Say goodbye, Caroline.
Caroline: Goodbye, Caroline!
Cave Johnson: She is a gem.
________________________________________
Cave Johnson: [prerecorded message] The testing area's just up ahead. The quicker you get through, the quicker you'll get your sixty bucks.
GLaDOS: [on Chell's portal gun] Hold on, who...?
Cave Johnson: Caroline, are the compensation vouchers ready?
Caroline: Yes sir, Mr. Johnson!
GLaDOS: [simultaneously but slower] Yes sir, Mister Johnson... Why did I just? Who is that? What the hell is going on he-
[shorts out]
________________________________________
Defective Turrets: I can't see a thing! What just happened? Better open fire!
[click click click click]
Defective Turrets: Dang.
Defective Turrets: [being flung into the trash chute] You can't fire me I quiiiiiiit!
Defective Turrets: So, we're all supposed to be blind now, right? Not just me? All right! Fantastic!
Defective Turrets: I uh, don't have any bullets. You gonna give me bullets? Are there bullets up there? Where do I get my gun?
Defective Turrets: Do we get some eyes at some point?
Defective Turrets: Yeah, I am a bad man!
Defective Turrets: Uh... Blam! Blamblamblam! I'm not defective!
Defective Turrets: Oh... no. I'm one of the bad ones, aren't I?
Defective Turrets: Hey squeaky voice! Give me some of your bullets! Can I get some bullets here? Anyone got any bullets? Well, I tried.
Defective Turrets: Clickity click click. Right on the money. Shootin' blanks every time. All the time.
Defective Turrets: [high voice then normal] Hello? HEEllo? Heh... Aw, crap.
________________________________________
Wheatley: I'll bet you're both dying to know what your big surprise is. Well, only TWO more chambers!
GLaDOS: We're running out of time. I think I can break us out of here in the next chamber. Just play along.
[Chell steps onto an Aerial Faith Plate, but it unexpectedly launches her and GLaDOS sideways into a series of other Plates and an Excursion Funnel towards Wheatley's area]
Wheatley: SURPRISE! We're doing it now.
GLaDOS: Okay, credit where it's due: For a little idiot built specifically to come up with stupid, unworkable plans, that was a pretty well laid trap.
Wheatley: You've probably figured it out by now, but I don't need you anymore. I found two little robots back here. Built specifically for testin'!
GLaDOS: Oh no. He found the cooperative testing initiative. It's... something I came up with to phase out human testing just before you escaped. It wasn't anything personal. Just... you know. You DID kill me. Fair's fair.
________________________________________
[last lines]
Space Core: [the Space Core is orbiting Wheatley; both are in space orbiting the Moon] So much space. Need to see it all.
Wheatley: I wish I could take it all back. I honestly do. I honestly do wish I could take it all back. And not just 'cause I'm stranded in space.
Space Core: I'm in space.
Wheatley: I know you are, mate! Yep, we're both in space.
Space Core: SPAAAAACE!
Wheatley: Anyway, you know, if I was ever to see her again, do you know what I'd say?
Space Core: I'm in space.
Wheatley: I'd say, "I'm sorry." Sincerely. I am sorry - I was bossy... and monstrous... And, I am genuinely sorry.
Space Core: I'm in space.
Wheatley: The end.
________________________________________
GLaDOS: [Chell wakes up after defeating the final boss] Oh, thank God you're all right. You know, being Caroline taught me a valuable lesson. I *thought* you were my greatest enemy, when all along you were my best friend. The surge of emotion that shot through me when I saved your life taught me an even more valuable lesson - where Caroline lives in my brain.
[beep]
Announcer: Caroline deleted.
GLaDOS: [her "old self"] Goodbye, Caroline. You know, deleting Caroline just now taught me a valuable lesson: The best solution to a problem is usually the easiest one. And I'll be honest. Killing you? Is hard. You know what my days used to be like? I just tested. Nobody murdered me. Or put me in a potato. Or fed me to birds. I had a pretty good life. And then you showed up. You dangerous, mute, lunatic. So you know what? You win. Just go.
[GLaDOS starts Chell's elevator moving up; laughs softly]
GLaDOS: It's been fun. Don't come back.
________________________________________
Announcer: [Chell arrives in a room with broken turrets on a conveyor belt to an incinerator] Turret redemption lines active. Please do not engage with turrets heading towards redemption.
[Chell jumps on the belt]
Announcer: Turret redemption lines are not rides, please exit the turret redemption line.
[Chell comes upon a non-broken turret aiming its laser out]
Oracle Turret: I'm different...
[Chell picks the turret up]
Oracle Turret: Thank you.
[pause]
Oracle Turret: Get mad!
[pause]
Oracle Turret: Don't make lemonade!
[pause]
Oracle Turret: Prometheus was punished by the gods for giving the gift of knowledge to man. He was cast to the bowels of the Earth and pecked by birds.
[pause]
Oracle Turret: It won't be enough. The answer lies beneath us.
[pause]
Oracle Turret: Her name is Caroline. Remember that. That's all I can say.
________________________________________
GLaDOS: You look ugly in that jumpsuit. That's not my opinion, it's right here on your fact sheet. They said on everyone else it looked fine but on you it looked hideous. But still what does an old engineer know about fashion. Oh, wait it's a she. Still, what does she know about, oh wait. She has a medical degree. In fashion. From France.
________________________________________
Announcer: This next test is very dangerous. To help you remain tranquil in the face of almost certain death, smooth jazz will be deployed, in three... two... one...
[Smooth Jazz music plays for ten seconds and then dies out electronically]
Announcer: [Chell solves the puzzle] Great work. Because this message is prerecorded, any observations related to your performance are speculation on our part. Please disregard any undeserved compliments.
________________________________________
Cave Johnson: Greetings, friend. I'm Cave Johnson, CEO of Aperture Science. You might know us as a vital participant in the 1968 senate hearings on missing astronauts. And you've most likely used one of the many products we invented, but that other people have somehow managed to steal from us. Black Mesa can eat my bankrupt...
Caroline: Sir, the testing?
Cave Johnson: Right. Now you might be asking yourself, "Cave, just how difficult are these tests? What was in that phonebook of a contract I signed? Am I in danger?" Let me answer those questions with a question. Who wants to make sixty dollars? Cash. You can also feel free to relax for up to twenty minutes in the waiting room, which is a damn sight more comfortable than the park benches most of you were sleeping on when we found you. So! Welcome to Aperture. You're here because we want the best, and you're it... Nope. Couldn't keep a straight face.
________________________________________
Wheatley: Okay, almost there. On the other side of that wall is one of the old testing tracks. There's a piece of equipment in there we're gonna need to get out of here. I think this is a docking station. Get ready...
[smashes into wall]
Wheatley: Good news: that is NOT a docking station. So there's one mystery solved. I'm going to attempt a manual override on this wall. Could get a bit technical! Hold on!
[smashes into wall, again]
________________________________________
GLaDOS: [Chell and GLaDOS exit the elevator to find a harpsichord piece by Bach playing on the speakers] Ohh... no, he's playing classical music.
Wheatley: [they enter the testing room to hear the sound of pages being turned] Oh sorry sorry sorry; Hope that didn't disturb you too much there. It was the sound of books... pages being turned. So, that's just what I was doing, just reading, uh... books. So not a moron. Anyway, just finished the last one, just now, the hardest one. Machiavelli. Do not know what all the fuss was about - understood it perfectly. Have you read that one?
GLaDOS: [disdainfully] Yes.
Wheatley: Yeah, decked it. Well, on with the test! Wished there was more books! But there's not.
________________________________________
Cave Johnson: All these science spheres are made out of asbestos, by the way. Keeps out the rats. Let us know if you feel a shortness of breath, a persistent dry cough, or your heart stopping. Because that's not part of the test. That's asbestos.
________________________________________
GLaDOS: Crushing's too good for him. First he'll spend a year in the incinerator. Year two: Cryogenic refrigeration wing. Then TEN years in the chamber I built where all the robots scream at you. THEN I'll kill him.
No comments:
Post a Comment