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Brock's Dialogue

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Putting in Bounty ItemEdit

First TimeEdit

  • Winslow: Mr. Samson, if you would be so kind.
    Brock: Well, this is a really bad idea...
    Winslow: Come, come, Mr. Samson. You know the rules.
    (Brock takes out the Orb and places it on the table)
    Winslow: Ah, the Orb. An ancient device, hand-crafted over the generations by the likes of Archimedes, Galileo, and Da Vinci! Some say it's a source of nigh infinite power, while others claim it holds the secret of creation itself!
    Brock: Doc says it's a useless hunk of junk, but sure, let's say it's the nigh infinite power thing.

Following TimesEdit

  • Winslow: Mr. Samson? The Orb, please?
    (Brock growls, and puts the Orb on the table)

ResponsesEdit

TauntingEdit

"Call My Bet!" (at least 4x the full blind)Edit

  • (evil laughter)
  • Go ahead and call... I dare ya.
  • The look in your eye says I've got you by the balls...and I'm not gentle.
  • Well, if I were you, I'd probably be peeing in my pants about now.

"Call His Bet!" (at least 4x the full blind)Edit

  • Yeah, good luck with that.
  • Impressive.
  • I can smell your fear, kid.
  • This is getting feisty.

ThinkingEdit

(standard; before [calling/betting/raising to make] at least 4x the full blind)Edit

  • Hmmm...
  • Mmmm...
  • Urrrr, I uh...
  • Eh...
  • Uhh...
  • I don't know... I, uh...
  • Clear the brain, Samson.
  • What would Bonham do?
  • I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration.

(with a big bet to call; at least 5x the full blind)Edit

  • That'd buy a lot of Bowie knives...
  • (chuckles)
  • He's gotta be bluffing, right?

(after consecutive small bets/raises and/or calls; before [calling/raising to make] at least 4x the full blind)Edit

  • Hold on a second, this is getting... tricky.
  • Ugh, talk about a devil's three way...
  • One of you jerkwads is bluffing...

Player BetsEdit

(general)Edit

  • Not exactly projecting a lot of strength there, kid.
  • Ahh, welcome to the party, kid.
  • You might wanna pace yourself there.
  • Seriously? That's the way you're gonna play?
  • Huh.

(big bet; at least 4x the full blind)Edit

  • That's a pretty big bet for such tiny little hands.
  • I'm almost impressed.

BettingEdit

(general)Edit

  • I'll bet.
  • I'll bet...
  • Yeah, I'll bet.
  • Let's bet.
  • I'm gonna bet.

(small bet; less than 6x the full blind)Edit

  • I like my poker with a little betting.
  • Sure, I'll toss out a few chips.
  • Let's see if we can chase out the poseurs.
  • Well, I don't usually bet this small, but I'm trying to lull you into a false sense of security.
  • Have some cheese, rat.

(big bet; at least 6x the full blind)Edit

  • This is gonna hurt you more than it does me. But that's kinda true about most things.
  • Aw jeez, now you've gone and pissed me off.
  • Brock: All right, enough of these weak ass bets.
    GLaDOS: Your words are like those of a poet laureate. Being clubbed to death with a tire iron.
  • Try not to pee in your pants over this bet... It's undignified.
  • Brock: You want to hang with the big dog, you gotta cough up some milk bones.
    Sam: Hey, that's MY line!
  • It's go time.
  • Brock: Time to get serious.
    Sam:
    What, you were being funny before now?
  • This pot needs a little Samsonite.

Player RaisesEdit

(standard)Edit

  • You might want to pace yourself there.
  • Seriously? That's the way you're gonna play?

(big raise; to make more than 4x the full blind)Edit

(standard)Edit
  • Pretty ballsy move for a gelding.
  • Well, I probably wouldn't have done that. But I'm not you.
  • Ooh. Not smart.
(while still in play)Edit
  • Aw, not cool, man.
(after folding)Edit
  • Ahh... no mercy.
  • Harsh. I approve.

RaisingEdit

(general)Edit

  • Raise.
  • I'll raise that.
  • Let's raise.
  • I'll... raise.
  • Raise! *grin*

(small raise; to make less than 6x the full blind)Edit

  • I'll see your bet and kick in a few more, just 'cause I can.
  • I'm gonna see that and raise it just a little bit. What do you think about that?
  • I'll see that and chip in a few more. It's a bit of a jerk move, but poker's kind of a jerk game.

(big raise; to make at least 6x the full blind)Edit

  • This is gonna hurt you more than it does me. But that's kinda true about most things.
  • Aw jeez, now you've gone and pissed me off.
  • Don't get angry, but I'm gonna see your bet, bury it under six feet of chips and desecrate the grave.
  • (slowly-building crazy chuckle)
  • You probably think that was a big bet. You're wrong.

(exclusive: reraise)Edit

  • More.
  • Right back atcha, bub.
  • Brock: That's not a raise, THIS... This is a raise.
    Claptrap: Worst. Crocodile Dundee impersonation. Ever.
    Brock: Croco-who?
  • You're doing it all wrong, junior. Let me show you how to raise like a man...
  • You wanna go crazy? Let's go crazy.
  • (evil chortle)

Player ChecksEdit

  • Not exactly projecting a lot of strength there, kid.
  • Checks make me... twitchy.

CheckingEdit

(general)Edit

  • Check.
  • Eh...check.
  • I'll... check.
  • Check...
  • (looks at the Player) ...Check...

(last to check)Edit

  • Jeez, if you're gonna make it THIS easy, I'll check too.
  • Well, since we're just oozing with confidence, I'll check too.
  • If this hand were any more exciting, I'd fall into a coma.
  • I'm not sure whether this hand's getting interesting or stupid. Check.

Player Calls a Big Bet; more than 4x the full blindEdit

  • Wow. I uh... really thought you'd fold there.
  • Pretty ballsy move for a gelding.
  • Well, I probably wouldn't have done that. But I'm not you.
  • Ooh. Not smart.

CallingEdit

(general)Edit

  • Call.
  • Call...
  • I call.
  • I... call.
  • Yeah, I call.
  • I'm in.
  • Sure, why not.

(calling the blinds)Edit

  • Hey, can't win if you don't play! In.
  • Well, these cards are making me tingly. Call.
  • I feel lucky. What about you, punk?
  • I'll stay in, 'cause I'm crazy.

(calling small bet; less than 6x the full blind)Edit

  • Yeah, I think I can afford that.
  • I scrape bigger bets than that out of my tire treads.
  • Well, I've gotta respect a guy secure enough in his manhood to make a bet that tiny. Call.
  • I think you forgot a few chips there, sparky. Call.
  • (sarcastically) Whoa! Are you sure you wanna make a bet that big?

(calling big bet; at least 6x the full blind)Edit

  • (evil chuckle then sternly whispers) Call.
  • Well, if you gotta make a mistake, it might as well be a big one. Call.
  • Now you got my attention. Call.
  • Nice try, sunshine.

(at the river before the showdown)Edit

  • You got nothin'!
  • Try not to cry when I show ya my cards. It makes me...uncomfortable.
  • Time to drop trou and break out the measuring tape.
  • Alright, ladies, let's whip 'em out!
  • Show 'em if you got 'em.

Can't Afford BlindEdit

  • Guess this is it.
  • Time for the ol' Hail Mary...

All InEdit

(betting/raising)Edit

(general)Edit
  • All in.
  • I'm all fuckin' in.
  • Aw, jeez... all in.
  • I'm all in.
  • Aw dammit, all in.
(more than $1,200)Edit
  • All right, let's go big!
  • What, you want this pot? Go ahead...take it from me. *eye twitches*
  • Okay, this slow-play crap is seriously grinding my gears. All in.
  • Enough of this romper room garbage!

(calling)Edit

  • Call! Ahh, didn't expect that, did ya?
  • Oh what the hell, all in.
  • Let's go, buttercup.
  • Yea, I say unto thee - they that sow the wind shall reap the motherlovin' whirlwind!
  • Enough of this folding crap!

All In (reaction)Edit

(standard)Edit

  • Damn.
  • Woooo! Nice.
  • Big mistake, junior.

(while duelling with The Player)Edit

  • Are you sure you wanna do that?
  • Oh, trying to step up, huh?

Player Folds (After the Flop is Revealed)Edit

  • Yeah, that was probably the right move.
  • Pussysayswhat? *coughs*
  • Huh.

FoldingEdit

(general)Edit

  • Fold...
  • Fold.
  • Nergh, fold.
  • Nah.
  • Uh-uh.
  • I'm out.
  • Not this time.

(last to fold)Edit

  • Ahhhh... son-of-a-bitch! Take it!
  • That didn't work out like I planned it.
  • Crap. Take it.
  • (enraged) Arggggggggggh! Take it!
  • Aww, damn. I kinda thought you'd fold by now.
  • Ah... I didn't think you had the stones for that one. Take it.
  • Well, I think you're bluffing...but I'm not paying to find out.
  • That bet's a couple levels above my pay grade.
  • Well, these cards are good, but uh...they're not THAT good.
  • Brock: This pot's too rich for your blood.
    Ash: Isn't that supposed to be "my blood"?
    Brock: Did I stutter?

(leaving at least two opponents still in play)Edit

  • I like my action a little less complicated.
  • I'll let you guys fight this one out.
  • Well, Sun Tzu says that you should always retreat to higher ground when your enemies are fighting each other. Or uh, maybe that was Shaft. (Editor's Note: Actually, it is both.)
  • Yeah, you guys go ahead and paint the walls with your brains. I'm out.
  • I think I'll bow out of this little pissing contest.

(pre-flop)Edit

  • Not this time.
  • Ugh.
  • I'll sit this one out.
  • Eh, I don't like bluffing, so uh...
  • I try not to dive into fights I can't win... which uh... doesn't happen too often.
  • Awwww, ugh... shit.
  • A hole this bloody should have Punji sticks at the bottom.
  • Brock: I wouldn't give these cards to my twelfth worst enemy.
    Sam: Twelfth worst?
    Brock: One through eleven are dead. Woudn't be much point.
  • Yeah, no.
  • I like my shirt too much to lose it on a hand like this.

(exclusive: consecutive pre-flop folds)Edit

  • Yeah, I think I'll just keep folding until something better comes along.
  • I haven't seen a run this ugly since Dean tried out for the track team.
  • Brock: Thanks for another crappy hand, lady.
    GLaDOS: You're welcome. It's nice to be appreciated.
  • All this folding is making me a little... pent up.

(at the flop)Edit

  • Brock: (silently) Fold.
    GLaDOS: Excuse me?
    Brock: (enraged) I SAID FOLD!
  • Brock: "Flop"'s not a strong enough word for what just happened here.
    Claptrap: Maybe "flaccid"?
    Brock: That's better.
  • This hand went to pot faster than a mail order bride.
  • I can't believe I paid to see that shit.
  • That's eight cards of crap in a five-card hand.
  • Crap!
  • I'm walking away from this before I have to run.
  • Someone, punch me in the face so I don't do that again. (gets punched) Ah, thanks. (NOTE: Needs confirmation.)

(at the turn)Edit

  • Brock: Ugh. That hand turned so evil it should try out for the GCI.
    Claptrap: The GC-wha?
    Brock: The Guild of Calamitous Intent. Bad guys in goofy costumes.
  • Sometimes you gotta stop digging a hole before it turns into a shallow grave.
  • (laughs) Ah, sometimes you gotta laugh, right?
  • Ugh, you'd think I'd be used to sudden betrayals by now!
  • This hand's deader than the last person who touched my car.

(at the river)Edit

  • Ah, I haven't seen a river that full of shit since the Mekong Delta. I'm out.
  • Ouch. This hand has been one big kick to the nards.
  • Whoa, sorry... I don't know what I was thinking there.
  • (angrily) Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Large Pot (at least $20,000)Edit

  • Woooo! Nice.
  • That's a uh... that's a pretty healthy pile.

Showdown Card Reveal (Positive; 66%-100%)Edit

  • Oh yeah.
  • Ha!
  • Nice!
  • Boo-yah!

Showdown Card Reveal (Negative)Edit

(standard; 0%-34%)Edit

  • Are you freakin' kiddin' me?
  • (angrily) Augh!
  • Son of a bitch!
  • Oh come on!

(exclusive: 0% chance of winning before the River card's reveal)Edit

  • D'oh!
  • Yeah, yeah, I'm dead, get on with it.
  • And there goes the double tap.
  • (sigh) Didn't even get to the river.

Showdown Card Reveal (Uncertain/Even Probability; 35%-65%)Edit

(after hole card reveal)Edit

  • Urrrrr...
  • Hmmm...
  • *chuckles*

During ShowdownEdit

  • Come on, come on baby...

WinningEdit

(winning a showdown and/or dueling with The Player)Edit

  • I'll just take those.
  • Cool.
  • Nice.
  • That's pretty much how I figured it'd go down.
  • No shame in losing to a superior opponent, spanky.

(stealing the pot/everyone folded to him)Edit

  • I could do this all night.
  • Yeah, that was probably the right call there.
  • For the record, that was a bluff.
  • Fear's a bitch, isn't it?
  • You guys are WAY too easy.

(exclusive: consecutive wins)Edit

  • Let's see if we can keep this gravy train rolling.
  • Get ready for your vacation, boys, 'cause here comes the Samsonite!
  • If this keeps up, I may be home in time for Downton.
  • Looks like Lady Luck's settled in for a long night at the Casa de Brock.
  • Am I on a roll or do you guys really suck at this?

(exclusive: after a long winless streak)Edit

  • Finally!
  • It's about freakin' time.
  • OK, that's better.
  • Ah, that's the stuff.

Gets Good Hand (Straight or Better), But Still Didn't WinEdit

  • Geez, usually I get a little FOREPLAY before getting kicked in the balls like that!
  • ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!
  • Mother puss-bucket!
  • (Brock's expression turns crazed and he stabs the table with his knife)
    GLaDOS: Mr. Samson...your pupils are dialating.
    Brock: Good hand... (screams) UGH, SERIOUSLY! (calming down) Well played.

Player Wins With a Good Hand (AK, QQ, KK, AA or at least Three of a Kind)/Wins a Hand in Omaha Hold 'EmEdit

  • *chuckles* Lucky bastard.
  • Aww, well sure. Even Dean could've won with those cards.
  • Brock: Congratulations, you didn't screw the pooch.
    Sam: Should I be offended by that?
  • Laugh it up while you can, fuzzball.

Player Has a Bad Hand (High Card/One Pair)Edit

  • Jeez, I think even Hank would've folded out of that mess.
  • You got more guts than brains there, mister.
  • Y'know, there's a little thing called "folding". You should look into it.
  • You sure you know what you're doing there, skippy? 'Cause that hand was... not good.

Loses With an Even Worse Hand Than The Player (High Card)Edit

  • Aw jeez, could I at least get beaten by a GOOD hand?
  • Nice! That's what I call a Barbara Streisand: ugly, but still working. (NOTE! Needs confirmation.)

Splitting the PotEdit

(general)Edit

  • A tie...what is this, soccer?
  • Would it have killed you to fold?

(while low on funds)Edit

  • Well, at least I didn't lose...
  • Huh. Ugly, and unsatisfying, just like Rusty's last date.

Starting a Duel with the PlayerEdit

(general)Edit

  • I gotta say, I'm kinda surprised. I thought it'd come down to me and chainsaw boy, or uh, even the dog.
  • So, it's just us now, huh? Oh, I'll try to make this as painless as possible.
  • Swell, I'm stuck in a showdown with Captain Small Talk over here.
  • You're about to enter a world of pain, kid.

(exclusive: within the first raising of the blinds)Edit

  • I usually have to whip out my knife to clear a room this fast.

Player is EliminatedEdit

  • I'll miss you, kid. You were quiet. I like that.
  • Ahh, too bad, junior. Next time, try to not, uh... suck.
  • Try not to slip in your blood on the way out, kid!
  • Vaya con dios, silent guy.

Eliminated From PlayEdit

  • GLaDOS: Brock... Brock, do you require assistance?
    Brock:
    (trying to contain himself) I'm... FINE...
  • Well, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go blot this evening out of my head with a bucket of Milwaukee's finest.
  • Brock: Wow, I, uh, really didn't see this coming...
    GLaDOS: I did. But I didn't want to ruin the surprise. Surprise. (confetti comes down and a party horn noise plays, Brock looks annoyed before leaving the table)
  • Brock: This is a joke, right?
    GLaDOS: I'm not very good at jokes. But here's one. What's yellow and black and red all over?
    Brock: What?
    GLaDOS: Brock Samson if he doesn't leave the table.
    Brock: ...Heh, good one.
  • Well, son of a bitch. You guys are smarter than you look.
  • Y'know, my mom warned me against playing poker with dogs, robots, cripples, and mutes. Guess I should've listened to her.

Player Wins the Tournament (Inventory-Themed Tournaments Only)Edit

  • I can't believe I lost to Shields and Yarnell over there!
  • It's gonna take a lot of tequila to block THIS out of my head.
  • The Doc ain't gonna be happy about me dropping 20k to a freakin' video game player.
  • Good game, good game... you, uh, might want to get out of here for a while.

Player Wins the Bounty ChallengeEdit

(already eliminated)Edit

  • (growls angrily at the Player from his table)

(last to be eliminated)Edit

  •  *puts both hands on the table* AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!

Winning the TournamentEdit

  • BOO-YAH! Now somebody get me a beer!
  • Hey, consider yourselves lucky. Most of my poker nights are a lot more... visceral.
  • Thanks for the game, everyone. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to, uh... pick up Hank and Dean at their interpretive dance class.
  • Wow, that was uh, easier than I expected.
  • Cool. Now I can get that spoiler for Adrian.
  • You guys might want to work on your poker faces before going up against a trained spy.
  • Thanks for the game, guys. Let's do it again sometime.

Player is IdleEdit

  • Hey, Sophie! Any chance you could make a choice before my butt cheeks fall asleep?
  • All this waiting is getting me a mite... twitchy.
  • This ain't rocket science, spanky.
  • (Singing, no subtitles) Bao-baba-baba. Bao-baba-baba. Bao-baba-baba.
  • Stalling for time doesn't really work in poker, kid.

SpecialEdit

No eliminations when the first blind raising occurs

  • Jeez, what's it gonna take to knock one of you losers out?

Lots of showdowns have taken place recently

  • I gotta say, I'm... loving all the action on this table.

Late in the game of a long tournament where drinks have been purchased

  • Ugh. I don't know what kinda crap they're putting in their drinks around here, but I've hit my limit.

When a Drink That the Player Orders Him Arrives at the TableEdit

  • Thanks. I'm still gonna kick your ass.
  • In my line of work, most of the people who buy me drinks are either trying to sleep with me or kill me. Usually both.
  • Thanks. My mouth was starting to dry up.
  • You're not trying to poison me, are you? Because I've built up immunities to, uh... just about everything.
  • L'Chaim!
  • (something in a foreign language)

Drinking Edit

  • (belch)
  • Smooth.

Initiating ConversationsEdit

With ClaptrapEdit

  • Brock: So, what are you, some sort of helper robot?
    Claptrap: Oh, the CL4P-TP is so much more than a mere "helper". We're companions, guides, teachers, comrades in arms-
    Brock: Forget I asked.
    Claptrap: I can do that too, see? Whoah, accidentally erased my bar mitzvah there. Ben Zonah!

With AshEdit

  • Brock: Y'know, when I heard that "Ash Williams" was gonna be here tonight, I kinda thought you were gonna be a girl.
    Ash: I've been getting a lot of that lately.
    Brock: It's probably the name Ashley. It used to be a boy's name but that was way back in the 40s. Gone With the Wind and all that.
    Ash: It's still a guy's name.
    Brock: Technically sure, yeah. But now that the girls have gotten a toe hold on it, dads don't wanna slap a "feminine" name on their sons. Same thing happened to "Leslie", "Shannon" and "Vivian".
    Ash: "Vivian"?
    Brock: Oh yeah! Hank really dodged a bullet on that one. "Vivian Venture"...brrrrrrr!
  • Brock: Chainsaw, huh? Isn't that a little messy?
    Ash: It gets the job done.
    Brock: I like my weapons more, uh...intimate.
    Ash: When you're fighting the kind of uglies that I come up against, the LAST thing you want is "intimate".
  • After the Player buys Brock a drink.
    Brock: This drink reminds me of a Russian spy I knew...
    (Editor's Note: he's referring to Molotov Cocktease)
    Ash: Why, because of the vodka?
    Brock: Because of the way she punched me in the liver until I started coughing up blood.

With SamEdit

  • Brock: I... uh... (*quiet, wheezing laughter*)
    Sam:
    What's so funny?
    Brock:
    I just realize that you're a dog playing po... (*laughs even louder*) playing poker!
    Sam:
    (shrugs) I don't get it.
  • Brock: I got a question.
    Sam:
    Is it a riddle? I hate riddles. And clowns.
    Brock: Are you some sort of super-evolved dog that walks and talks like a man, or a freakishly disfigured man that looks like a dog?
    Sam:
    Uh... I don't really know. Max! What am I?
    Max:
    Well, duh, you're a doof, Sam!
  • After the Player has bought a drink for Sam
    Brock: Not much of a drinker, are ya, Sam?
    Sam: Oh, I drink all the time. Milk, water, banang, fountains of youth, magical elixirs...
    Max: Corn dog smoothies, contraband energy drinks, sacred monkey sweat...
    Sam: But I usually steer away from the devil's drink, yeah.
    Brock: Don't like the taste?
    Sam: Nah, it just kinda lost its allure after I found out it wasn't actually made by the Devil.
    Max: Now ask us why we started eating radishes!

With Claptrap and AshEdit

  • Brock: So, how'd you lose the hand?
    Ash: I can't talk about it.
    Brock: Too stressful?
    Ash: Nah, it's just that Anil nathrak! Bar ram u! Yvan eht nioj! (speaks unintelligable dialouge for a few seconds)
    Claptrap: What Mr. Williams is trying to say is that due to an ancient and unspeakable curse, he is unable to relate the horrifying circumstances that led to the removal of his hand without risking his immortal soul and/or this entire plane of existence. My translation software is a little fuzzy on this point.
    Ash: What he said.
    Brock: S'heavy, man.

With Ash and SamEdit

  • Brock: Y'know, Sam, not many men of action can get away with the "skinny hat" look.
    Sam: Thanks. I've been trying to bring hats back for years, but I can't even get Max to wear his beret any more.
    Max: Ceci n'est pas une chapeau.
    Ash: I tried wearing a cowboy hat back in the 90's. It didn't take.
    Sam: What about you, Brock? I see you in something of a chupalla...
    Brock: Well I, uh, can't really wear hats. My hair produces a chemical that causes them to disintegrate after a few hours. Doc says it's a super-testosterone or something.
  • Brock: I don't wanna pry, but what kind of bennies are they offering at S-Mart these days?
    Ash: We're unionized up the ying-yang, Brock-o. Low-deductable medical, full dental and vision, matching 401k, and a generous life insurance policy. Which is nice considering all the deadites. What about you?
    Brock: Eh, it's pretty much the same in the OSI, except for the life insurance on account of well, you know, the mortality rate. How about you, Sam?
    Sam: Uhm, well, every Christmas the Commissioner gives us a floaty pen from a different state. I think we're up to Missouri now.
    Brock: Well, that sucks.
  • Brock: So, what kind of heat you carry in the Freelance Police?
    Sam: Whatever we can get our hands on! Fire extinguishers, stale loaves of bread, irreplaceable relics of unimaginable power, that sort of thing. 
    Max: Don't forget whimsy!
    Sam: (takes out his gun) But most of the time, I just rely on ol' Betsy here.
    Brock: Ever think of packing a blade?
    Sam: I tried using an axe once, but people started calling me "Sam Axe," which really confused the heck out of Max.
    Max: Stupid homonyms.
    Ash: "Sam Axe"... might as well call yourself "Davey Gunface."

With GLaDOS and ClaptrapEdit

  • (Brock stares at Claptrap)
    Claptrap: What? Do I have a booger on my nose?
    Brock: I'm just trying to figure out where your gas cap is.
    Claptrap: Gas cap!? Good sir, I am offended! All Claptrap units run on an advanced form of fusion, one that is both carbon-neutral and remarkably affordable to the average consumer!
    Brock: If you're running on fusion, then why am I smellin' diesel fumes?
    Claptrap: Oh, that. That's my aftershave. Nothing drives the lady robots crazy like a few dabs of burning hydrocarbons behind the audio sensors. Aw yeah.
    GLaDOS: It's true. It's driving me insane. Just like Lizzie Borden.
    (Note: Lizzie Borden murdered her parents.)

With GLaDOS and AshEdit

  • (Brock notices Ash's hand, which starts tapping on the table uncontrollably)
    Depending on Ash's luck at the time of the observation, Brock could say one of the following:
    Brock: That's a helluva tell you got there, Williams.
    ...or...

    Brock:
    Y'know, Williams, you might be doing a little better if you could control that tell of yours.
    Either way, the conversation continues as follows.
    Ash: What? Oh, you mean the hand. That's not a tell. It just does that sometimes.
    Brock: That's the problem with your steampunk neural interfaces. Cool to look at, but buggy as hell.
    GLaDOS: Actually, my scans indicate that Mr. Williams's hand is fully functional, and that its nervous tapping appears to be induced by an outside force. I'll see if I can isolate it.
    Brock: Don't bother, it's morse code.
    Ash: What?
    Brock: D-R-I-N
    GLaDOS: K-M-O-R-E-B
    Brock: A-N-A-N-G.
    Ash: "Drink more banang." Huh.
    GLaDOS: Your hand has apparently been possessed by a marketing department.

With GLaDOS and SamEdit

  • Brock: Y'know, I kinda thought your partner'd be playing tonight.
    Sam: (as Max seems to be trying to literally cough something up) Max used to be a tournament regular. But he's got what the psychologists call "Crippling Impulse Control Issues".
    Brock: Couldn't keep a lid on his gambling?
    Sam: Not in the slightest, but that didn't matter, 'cause he kept winning.
    Brock: Well then what's the problem?
    Sam: The Inventory banned him because, well...
    GLaDOS: Max kept eating the poker chips.
    Max: (finally hocks out a poker chip) There you are!
  • Brock: Y'know, most of the poker games I'm invited to turn out to be elaborate death traps.
    Sam:
    You worry too much, Brock. Max and I have been coming here for years, without even a hint of a death trap.
    Max: Unless you count the killer mini-tacos.
    Steve: (offscreen) Heyoooo!
    Brock:
    I don't know... This whole place just feels...weird.
    GLaDOS:
    "Weird" is in the eye of the beholder. Would you like me to reprogram your optic nerves to be less paranoid?
    Brock: ...See what I'm talking about? That there is grade-A weird! That's just weird!

With GLaDOS, Claptrap, and SamEdit

  • Brock: You'd better not be cheating with some sort of X-Ray attachment there, Artoo.
    Claptrap: Why would I need to cheat? My cybernetic processors are more than capable of whipping your primitive ape brains!
    Sam: (if he's still at the table) Hey, I'm a dog brain!
    Claptrap: Besides, X-Ray lenses are SOOOO 20th century. All the cool robots are using Quantum Prediction Fields these days.
    Brock: But not you, RIGHT?
    Claptrap: Um, yeah. Right. (makes a shut down noise)
    GLaDOS: That sounded like the shutdown of a Quantum Predictor Field.
    Claptrap: No, that was my, um, internal dialysis regulator. Which I need. For my diabetes. That I have.
  • If the Player had bought a drink for Claptrap
    Brock: Y'know, Claptrap, the table DOES have drink holders.
    Claptrap: Drink holders? That's for senior citizens, SAMSON! Every CL4P-TP unit is equipped with its own, fully automatic extendable beverage coaster, guaranteed to keep your drink upright even in the nastiest of firefights!
    Sam: Really? 'Cause it LOOKS like a CD-ROM drive.
    Claptrap: CD-ROM drive? What's that?
    GLaDOS: It's something cavemen used to start fires when they ran out of sticks.

To the PlayerEdit

  • Brock: So uh... what's your story?
    GLaDOS: The Player is here by special invitation of the Owner.
    Brock: Special invitation, huh? You must have some powerful connections to pull that off.
    GLaDOS: Actually, the Player has no connections at all. Curious, that.
  • Brock: You know, after this is over, we should blow this joint and find some real action.
    GLaDOS: At the conclusion of tonight's activities, the Player will be escorted home by the Inventory's security service.
    Brock: Oh, are you sure? 'Cause I know this joint on the coast where they play Russian Roulette with confiscated ray-guns.
    GLaDOS: The Owner would frown on disintegrating the Player.
    Brock: Aw, c'mon, they're set on stun!
  • Brock: "The Player", huh? Is that some kind of lame-ass super-villain name?
    GLaDOS: The Player is simply the Player.
    Brock: How Zen. If he falls in the woods, will he make a sound?

Continuing a ConversationEdit

  • Well, anyhow...
  • So anyhow, like I was saying...
  • So like I was saying...
  • So anyway...
  • So, uh, like I was saying...

Trial-Only, Prompt to Buy Full GameEdit

  • You want more banter? Buy the damn game.

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