Choose your weapon! We'll meet at midnight in the garden! Do you accept the terms?
jabberwacky: To the arena!
user: My weapons will be SYNTH, CRUSH, FEAR, and DEATH.
jabberwacky: Nice to meet you Death.
user: Why are you talking to him? I thought we were supposed to be killing each other.
jabberwacky: We were certanly not!
...
user: True.
jabberwacky: Yes huh.
user: Nuh uh!
jabberwacky: Uh huh!
user: That's the way!
jabberwacky: Thank you.
user: Yore, well, come.
jabberwacky: Really, I don't.
...
user: Hawt.
jabberwacky: You heard me.
user: I did.
jabberwacky: No you didn't.
user: True. Well, Peace out.
jabberwacky: Ok.
user: Spiffing.
.......................................
