text:
Conker's Bad Fur Day

Conker's Bad Fur Day is a 2001 Nintendo 64 video game made by Rare that was marketed as an adult platform game. It was remade for the Xbox in the year 2005 as Conker: Live & Reloaded.

Opening
Conker: Well, there I am. Conker, the king. King of all the land. Who've thought that? "But how did I come to this?", I hear you say. "And who are those strange fellows that surround my throne?", I hear you also say. Well, it's a long story. Come closer, and I'll tell you. It all started.... yesterday. And what a day that was. It's what I call a Bad Fur Day.

Conker the Squirrel

 * Conker: Oh, no! It's gonna be one of those days.

Wad of money

 * "Some money over here!"
 * "Hey!"
 * "Somebody get me!"
 * "Hey, what about me?!"
 * "Hey, over here!"
 * "Here I am, ya greedy bastard!"
 * "Oh look, Another wise guy! Come on then!"
 * "So, you want some green stuff?"
 * "Hey I'm here hurry up, pick me up, shithead."
 * "Hey where the fuck you've been you ginger bastard?"
 * "Somebody call for me? Who wants some of the dough?"
 * "Hey! Somebody call for us? Who wants some of us doughs?"

Scarecrow Birdy

 * [drunk Conker walks up to sleeping Birdy]
 * Birdy: Uh, who are you?
 * Conker: (oh) hello.., can you help me? I need to get home and go to bed, 'cause I don't feel very well at all.
 * Birdy: Er... Home? No! (no!)
 * Conker: (oh) so you can't help me at all.
 * Birdy: Eh actually, yes I can, maybe!
 * Conker: Ok, what's your name?
 * Birdy: Birdy.
 * Conker: Beardy,.. but you haven't got a beard!
 * Birdy: No.., Birdy.., I scare birdies!
 * Conker: Okay, Birdy, (um) so, how can you help me?
 * Birdy: Right,.. step over here!
 * [Conker steps on a B pad]
 * Birdy: You see those buttons... You'll find that eh.., eh, they're called context-sensitive. (hehehehehe) And eh... (eh) well actually they eh... (eh) press B.
 * Conker: Press B(?)
 * Birdy: Oh yeh, the light comes on... and it makes this noise, Ting! Ting noise... It goes ting.
 * [Lightbulb appears over Conker and goes ting!]
 * Birdy: There you go, Ting… that's it.
 * Conker: That's it?
 * Birdy: Yeh.
 * Conker: Okay, I'll press B.
 * [Pressing B causes Conker to pull out a bottle of Booze]
 * Conker: Oh.
 * Birdy: (Ooh) I don't mind if I do!
 * [Birdy chugs the Booze]
 * Conker: So… what does that mean?
 * Birdy: It means context-sensitive. It's sensitive to context! Try it over there.
 * [Birdy points to other B pad as the gate opens up]
 * Conker: Okay.
 * Birdy: Or you could try it again.
 * [If tried on the same B pad, a bottle of helium comes out; Birdy sprays it in his mouth]
 * Birdy: [in higher pitch] nice helium! (hehehehe)
 * [If tried another time on the same B pad, another bottle of Booze will come out]
 * Birdy: Ah. Don't mind if I do. Thank you very much.
 * [Birdy chugs Booze again]
 * Birdy: Aah, I'm going to go to bed now! Night-night.
 * [Birdy falls asleep; after pressing B on the new B pad, Conker takes out some Alka-Seltzer, puts it in a glass of water, shakes it up, and takes a swig; he gets better and throws the glass away]
 * Conker: Wow, just what I needed. It would seem to me that these give me just what I need at that moment in time! Oh… I see what he means, Context-sensitive. Clever! And I feel loads better! Right, Let's get outta here! Oh, and by the way, if for whatever reason you wanna skip all these wonderful cutscenes, then just press the L button. But, you will have to have watched them at least once.

 * [Conker steps on the new B pad later in the game]
 * Birdy: Hello, it's me again... Mr. Scarecrow Birdy! Right, what seems to be the problem? Oh yes, you need manual! Otherwise no... Doesn't work. It'll cost you!
 * Conker: How much?
 * Birdy: Eh, got any mepsipax?
 * Conker: What?
 * Birdy: Don't matter. Actually eh, I think eh, well em, ten dollars... Long time, you love manual long time!
 * [Conker gives Birdy a wad of cash]
 * Conker: Here ya go.
 * Birdy: Here ya go, [He grabs a wad of cash and gives Conker the instruction manual] manual, just press B.
 * [Birdy leaves]
 * Wad of Money: Oh, ugh, ah! Get me outta here. Hey you, come here, come on, [He comes out of Birdy's pocket] I wanna go back there. Hurry up!
 * Conker: Okay, suits me! Yeah, cash. [Conker grabs a wad of cash]

The Gothic Gargoyle

 * [Conker needs to get across a bridge, but there's a large stone gargoyle laying down on it]
 * Conker: Ah, who's this guy?
 * Gargoyle: If you think you're coming this way … you can think again!
 * Conker: Oh, you're a real charmer. I just wanna get past, please?
 * Gargoyle: No. I don't think so. I've only just got comfy. Have you ever sat on a piece of Gothic architecture for 200 years? Gets right up your arse, you know. Thought it was about time to move on to a bridge, say. And I'm not moving now.
 * Conker: Isn't it a little bit early in the day to start talking about "Gothic architecture"?
 * Gargoyle: Well, if you care to come a bit closer, we can discuss things of another nature.
 * [If Conker gets close to the gargoyle, it will grab him, maul him brutally, then throw him off the bridge. However, if you hit him with the frying pan...]
 * Gargoyle: Ha! A frying pan. [laughs] You stupid little... [stands up]
 * Conker: [thinking] See ya.
 * [The Gargoyle loses his balance and falls off the bridge]

Gregg the Grim Reaper

 * [The Grim Reaper calls for Conker first time he dies; the Reaper is short and has a squeaky Cockney voice, so he uses a poor-quality megaphone in order to sound more intimidating]
 * Gregg the Grim Reaper: Conker … Conker … Conker! Yes, you, boy. You're dead! You are dead! Dead as a dodo! Deader than a … [feedback noise, Gregg walks out holding a megaphone] I can't be arsed with this bloody ridiculous contraption! Whose idea was this, anyway? Right, hello! Um, my name's Gregg, the Grim Reaper – and don't laugh!
 * Conker: Aren't you a little short to be a grim reaper?
 * Gregg the Grim Reaper: Well, how many grim reapers have you met before, mate? What, what am I supposed to look like?
 * Conker: Yeah, that's a good point, and well made.
 * Gregg the Grim Reaper: Now, let's see … ah yes, Conker. Surname?
 * Conker: The Squirrel.
 * Gregg the Grim Reaper: The Squirrel. The squirrel... oh, bloody hell! You would have to be a sodding squirrel, wouldn't you?
 * Conker: Why, is there a problem with that?
 * Gregg the Grim Reaper: Why, yes, there is, actually. It's like those bloody cats, such a pain in the arse! You're one of these special cases.
 * Conker: Oh, really?
 * Gregg the Grim Reaper: Yes. Apparently, according to the powers that be [points up] – I'm just doing my job, I do what I'm told, I don't even get paid very much – apparently, squirrels can have as many lives as they think they can get away with.
 * Conker: Oh, I see. So I'm not dead?
 * Gregg the Grim Reaper: You're dead.... but not quite.
 * Conker: Hah, right. Well, I'll be off, then!
 * Gregg the Grim Reaper: Tshah! [stops Conker with his scythe] Just you wait, smart arse. You don't get out of it that easily. Now, the thing is, you may not be dead, but that doesn't mean you can't die. You just have few more, shall we say … chances. Yeah, like cats. I hate those things. Right! Distributed around your little world are these tail things, squirrel's tails. If you can get them, I'll give you an extra chance. Understand?
 * Conker: Um … well … sounds a bit strange, but okay.
 * Gregg the Grim Reaper: Strange? It's the best bloody deal you're going to get, you little prick. Right, that's it! piss off! I've got some cats to see. Bloody things. I don't like those bloody cats. The way they meow and they piss everywhere, and their shit smells just bloody awful, all over my furniture, I just …

 * [Later in the game, Gregg can be seen swinging his scythe through a pool of water repeatedly, exclaiming, "They've got fish versions of the bastards now!", referring to the catfish in the water]
 * Gregg the Grim Reaper: I don't bloody believe it. They've got fish versions of the little bastards now. Come here! I'll show them. Ah! Missed the little fucks again. I've got your number, mate. It's down to two for you. Ah! There's a oner. Ha ha, yes. Not long for you now, you little prick.

 * [Some time later, after you open a big gate]
 * Gregg the Grim Reaper: Oh! You again. Why don't you piss off! Can't you see I'm busy? I suppose you want to go there now, do you? Where there's lots of money, no doubt. One of those rich ancestors of yours. Bloody undead, un-bloody dead. I mean, it's even worse than bloody cats. Undead! What's the bloody point! … [Conker shrugs his shoulders] Um … you may be needing a bit of help. So I've got this. I hate the undead, hate them. It's the only thing that kills them. Shot through the head. Nothing more, nothing less. Here, it's better than that pissing frying pan, that's for sure. Take it. That's it! Piss off!
 * Conker: Hm … a shotgun. Yeah. Don't like the sound of zombies, though. Still, if it gets on his nerves, then that's all right by me. And what was that about an ancestor, undead ancestor? Hm. Well, if he's undead, then technically that makes him kind of dead, which means I should get the inheritance. I mean, how bad can a handful of dead people be? They're dead! Well, undead. Now, let's see … shotgun. I think it's one of those B pressing moments, don't you?

 * [Some time after that, after killing twelve zombies (or more)]
 * Gregg the Grim Reaper: Ah! Not bad, I suppose. That's another twelve souls. Right. Come on. In you go. And I think you'll find that you're the one that'll be needing a will. Inheritance, Pah!

Sunflower

 * Conker: Hey. Uh, could you help me out here? There's a guy over there. He says he wants to … something to do with stigmas … not quite sure. Pollinate you? Sounds a bit strange, but …
 * Sunflower: Go away. Ooh, that big tail of yours is far too tickly. [giggles]
 * Conker: Uh, no, you don't understand. Hey …
 * Sunflower: Get that big, long, hairy tail away from me! [giggles]
 * Conker: Ah, suit yourself, then.
 * Sunflower: Ooh, be like that.

Franky the Mad Pitchfork

 * [Conker walks into the barn and sees a bunch of hay bales jumping around; the hay bales then turn their attention towards him]
 * Conker: Hey, you over there!
 * Hay Bale: Hmm?
 * Conker: Yeah, you! Apparently, there's something real neat inside this barn. I can't quite see it myself... Unless, of course, some guys jumping around stinking of horse poo's real neat. [to the audience] Which, of course, it isn't.
 * Hay Bale: [chuckles evilly] This is pretty neat.
 * [the barn door closes behind Conker]
 * Paintpot: Hey, Franky. I think there's a little fella over, he's just coming in through the door. I think it's your turn to kick his... Is it? Is it your turn? Is it his turn?
 * Paintbrush: Yeah, I think it's his turn. Hey, Franky, go kick his ass. Go on! Go on, kick his ass!
 * Franky: I ain't kickin'... Oh, it's always my turn to kick their asses.
 * Paintpot: Frank, just go over there and get kick his ass, Frank, for fuck's sake.
 * Paintbrush: Yeah, go on over there and kick his ass. Somebody's gotta kick his ass, it ain't gonna be me. I'm a brush, I don't kick ass.
 * Paintpot: Well, I'm a paintpot, anyway! I'm a fucking paintpot! Go and kick his ass!
 * Franky: I, uh... Uh, okay, I'll kick his ass. I'm not goin' over there! He can come over here!
 * Paintpot: Okay, okay. Hey, here he comes! Quick, quick! Just keep still, keep still.
 * [they all do so]

 * Franky: What the damn diddly-squat are you doing in my barn?
 * Conker: Well I never, it's a talking pitch fork.
 * Franky: Not from 'round here, are you boy?
 * Conker: No, I'm from the twenty first century.
 * Franky: I don't rightly recollect liking your type. Therefore I conclude that I is gonna kick your butt around this barn like there's no tomorrow.
 * Conker: [thinking] What the heck's he moaning about?
 * Franky: I is gonna stick my big fork right into yers.
 * Conker: Were your parents related? Like, before they were married?
 * Franky: Right! That's it. I is gonna give you a whupping! Here we go!

 * Paintpot: I've seen some kicking ass in my time, and that is the shittiest, crappest, crappiest, shittest, kick ass I've ever seen.
 * Paintbrush: Yeah, that was pretty crap. As far as kickin' ass goes, it was abysmal, and you is a shit bastard, stupid bastard. Isn't he?
 * Paintpot: Yeah, he sure is. So, what are you gonna do now? Kill yourself? 'Cause that's what I'd recommend.
 * Paintbrush: Yeah, you should kill yourself! In fact we got a rope right there! We got a rope?
 * Paintpot: Yeah, we got a rope! There ya go!
 * Franky the Pitchfork: What kind of friends are you … in that case I is gonna kill myself, I'm gonna kill myself right now. That's all there is to it. Fuck you!
 * [After hanging on a noose for a few minutes]
 * Paintpot: What are you doing? [laughs] You stupid bastard! He hasn't even got a neck.
 * Paintbrush: Yeah, look at him hanging up there. Stupid bastard hasn't even got a neck. He hasn't got a neck, has he?
 * Paintpot: I already said that! Shut up!
 * Paintbrush: Oh. Okay.
 * Franky: Well, whad'ya know, I don't appear to have a neck of any description. In fact I don't even have an esophagus! Oh, diddle-di-dam, I is gonna be up here for a long time.
 * Haybot: Hmm, my nemesis has been defeated … [faces Paintpot and Paintbrush] Yes, it's me again! Right, time to wander around … aimlessly!

 * [After Conker cuts Franky down]
 * Paintpot: What'd you do that for? Dumb shit.
 * Paintbrush: Yeah, dumb shit.
 * Paintpot: Why is it that you have to repeat everything I say?
 * Paintbrush: I don't repeat everything you say … do I?
 * Paintpot: Yes, you do, actually.
 * Paintbrush: Oh. Sorry.
 * Franky: Why, thank you, Mr. Squirrel. I was hanging up there by my purdy little neck. It was like one of them there executions ya hears about.
 * [Conker looks at the Paintbrush and Paintpot, and he briefly sees them wearing executioner's garments, however turns around and realizes it was only him imagining it]
 * Conker: Um, yeah, anyway, what are we gonna do about this guy over here?
 * Franky: Well, um, what d'you wanna do about him? I'll do anything for you, 'cause you is my bestest buddy in the whole wide world!
 * [The paintpot and Paintbrush start laughing, which Conker then shoves the paintbrush into the Paintpot's mouth]
 * Conker: So, what exactly did you have in mind?
 * Franky: Well, now, hop on ma back here, and we is gonna go for a ride.
 * Conker: Okay, fine, but don't get any funny ideas, this is purely a means to an end.
 * Franky: Well, I don't know what ya talkin' about.

 * [After Conker and Franky deals a certain amount of damage to Haybot]
 * Franky: Yee-hoo!
 * Conker: Uh-oh.
 * [Haybot reveals a robotic eye, which scans Conker]
 * Haybot: Buff you, asshole!

 * [Conker, Franky and Haybot fall through the barn floor]
 * Conker: Oww, I think I hurt my leg. [Franky appears] No!
 * Franky: What's up, little squirrel fella? We showed him, didn't we? Yeah! That was a piece of cake.
 * Conker: Yeah! It was, actually. Makes a change. [dramatic music plays] I don't think I like the sound of that music.
 * Franky: Uh, I don't think I like the sound of that music either.
 * [Haybot emerges from the flames, revealing his true robotic form; Conker and Franky scream in fright; Haybot scans Conker]
 * Haybot: Suzie 9mm.
 * [missile launchers appear on top of Haybot]
 * Suzie: I'm right here, sweetie pie. Just tell me where to shoot.

 * [after Conker and Franky defeat Haybot for the last time]
 * Conker: We definitely showed that time. Erm, hey, Franky? Franky? Where's he gone? Oh, no...
 * [Franky has been broken in two]
 * Franky: [moans] Mr. Squirrel, I think I'm a goner.
 * Conker: You don't look too good. Erm, you may be alright.
 * Franky: Whaddya mean alright?! Look at me! I'm broken in two! I'm just firewood from now. They'll be using me as toothpicks before you know it.
 * Conker: Aw, you'll be alright. C'mon.
 * Franky: What are ya gonna do?
 * Conker: Well, I've got an idea. Okay, let's see. Hey, hold still!
 * [Conker has taped Franky back together]
 * Conker: There ya go. Good as new.
 * Franky: Eh, it's... well, kinda feels alright. It ain't so bad after all. Whaddya think?
 * Conker: Yeah, looks great.
 * Franky: Whaddya mean?
 * Conker: No, it looks great!
 * Franky: Y'know, thank you, Mr. Squirrel. I think that, in all the people of the world I've ever met, you is got to be the most generous, kindest, nicest, nicest...
 * Conker: Okay, yeah, no need to get sentimental. Anyway, we got to find a way out of here now.
 * Franky: Yeah, you could be right.
 * [water begins gushing from the pipes]
 * Conker: Yep, just typical!
 * Franky: Oh, uh, anyway, Mr. Squirrel, I've, er, I gotta go! See ya! [hops away]
 * Conker: Oh! Oh, well. I suppose I better start swimming. [looks up to the electrical wires above him] Don't like the look of those wires. Better be quick.

The Catfish

 * [as Conker walks into a waterway, some catfish swim up to the surface]
 * Lead Catfish: Yoo-hoo! Squirrel person! Are you begging for food? Meow?
 * Conker: [walks onto the dock] What?
 * Lead Catfish: Well, you look like you could do with a little extra, my boy. And we thought you might actually be interested in earning some cash.
 * Conker: You're offering me cash? Okay. What's the catch?
 * Lead Catfish: Well, there's this awful awful brute swimming around. He's terrible, and he's stolen our valuable belongings. We need somebody disposable to go in and, well, get rid of him. Meow.
 * Conker: Me, you mean?
 * Lead Catfish: Well, you can't expect one of us to go, can he, ladies? [the other catfish shake their heads] We're blue-blooded, don't you know.
 * Conker: Well, asses to you then! I gotta watch out for myself.
 * Lead Catfish: [gasps] Oh, dear! What language!
 * Catfish: Don't worry, dear. He's as common as muck. Commoners talk like that. It's dreadful, isn't it?
 * Lead Catfish: Let me handle it, dear. Listen here, you. Listen to me. We'll give you ten percent, and that's our final offer. Meow.
 * Conker: Ten percent?
 * Lead Catfish: Yes, but one thing to remember... [whispers] Shh, shh, shh. Come closer. He's easily wound up. Oh, and by the way, the safe has a combination. Yes, you know what that means? Well, when it's not dangerous down there for us, come back, and we'll open it for you. Well, good luck! Go on! Chop chop! Off with you! Meow. [the catfish all swim away]
 * Conker: Hang on a sec! What was that about disposable? Hey! Ah, well, cash.

 * [after Conker uses the cogs to restrain the bulldogfish, he returns to the catfish]
 * Lead Catfish: Ladies! Ladies! It's that squirrel person again. How are you? I see our brutish friend didn't get his vittles today.
 * Conker: Yeah, well, time enough for that. I need the combination, thanks.
 * Lead Catfish: Oh, no, no, no. You don't seem to understand. Yes, you don't understand us. We can't go about giving away classified information like that just to anybody. Meow. We will open the safe, won't we, ladies? Lead the way.

 * [after Conker leads the catfish to the safe]
 * Conker: [regarding the bulldogfish] Now then, ladies. There he is.
 * Lead Catfish: Oh, look at... Poo poo to you. Yes. You brute. Yes, that told him. [the bulldogfish snarls at the catfish] Oh, dear! He is bad-tempered, isn't he? Meow. And now, where were we? [goes down under the safe] Now, let me see. [switches the sign from "Wrong" to "Right"] There you go. Open. Meow. [the safe opens] We'll wait here.

 * [after Conker defeats the Big Big Guy and grabs the wad of cash in the safe, he returns outside]
 * Lead Catfish: Oh, good, ladies! Meow! He has the money! Now, give us back our money, honey, and you'll get your dollar.
 * Conker: What? A dollar?
 * Lead Catfish: Yes, yes. Meow. Ten percent, as we agreed. Meow.
 * [as Conker and the catfish are talking, the rope restraining the bulldogfish starts breaking into three strands]
 * Conker: [counts the amount of money in the wad of cash] One, two, three... ten. Ten dollars. Ten dollars?! I thought you said it was a fortune!
 * Lead Catfish: It is a fortune.
 * [one of the three rope strands break]
 * Conker: I'll tell you what. Here's the new deal: I keep the lot! See ya!
 * Lead Catfish: What?! The cheek! Just a minute here, you... [Conker puts the wad of cash in his pocket] What do you think you're doing?! That's our mon-mon... Meow. [there's now only one rope strand intact; the lead catfish turns around to see that the bulldogfish is about to break free] Oh, um, ladies, never mind the money for now. I think it's time we were off. Tally ho. [the catfish swim away]

Fire Imps and the Big Big Guy

 * [as Conker makes it to the boiler room, he notices two fire imps hanging out near a beer tap; one is drinking lighter fluid while the other is smoking a joint]
 * First Fire Imp: [gargles lighter fluid and tosses the can] Hey, this is a neat joint!
 * Second Fire Imp: Yeah, it's great!
 * First Fire Imp: Gimme some of that!
 * Second Fire Imp: Fuck off!
 * First Fire Imp: Ya bastard!
 * Second Fire Imp: Gimme another tab!
 * First Fire Imp: Fuck off! [defecates flaming doo-doo]
 * [the imps laugh until they notice Conker]
 * First Fire Imp: Hey, don't look now! Don't look now! Look at him! Furry guy! Looks kinda flammable!
 * Second Fire Imp: Flammable! Oh, I like flammable! What do we do?!
 * First Fire Imp: Hide! Yeah, hide! Quick, put the tab down!
 * Second Fire Imp: Yeah asshole, what am I gonna do with this?!
 * First Fire Imp: Just shove it up your ass!
 * Second Fire Imp: Oh, O.K.! [shoves the joint up his butt] Oh, there we go!
 * [both imps dash away from Conker in a split second]

 * First Fire Imp: Let's do the Big Big Guy!
 * Second Fire Imp: Yeah, the Big Big Guy!
 * [they both jump into a giant boiler and some tussling can be heard]
 * First Fire Imp: Right, where's the keys? [inserts the keys] Press the start button.
 * [the start button is pressed and the Big Big Guy comes to life and yanks himself off the pipe he was attached to]
 * Second Fire Imp: Let me have a go!
 * First Fire Imp: No, it's my turn!
 * Second Fire Imp: Oh, it's always your turn!
 * First Fire Imp: Shaddup!
 * The Big Big Guy: [in an English accent] Gentlemen, gentlemen, do calm down! We have business at hand.
 * Second Fire Imp: Hey, he sounds really poncey, like an English person.
 * Conker: [thinking] Nutters.
 * Second Fire Imp: Is he up to this job do you reckon?
 * First Fire Imp: Hey! You up to this job? Let me show you something! Ya see that button there?
 * Second Fire Imp: Yeah!
 * First Fire Imp: The one with the...
 * Second Fire Imp: Yeah!
 * First Fire Imp: Press it.
 * [the button is pressed and two giant balls pop out from the Big Big Guy's crotch]
 * Second Fire Imp: Oh, I see what you mean.
 * The Big Big Guy: Balls of Brass, sir. Polished to the Nth degree.
 * Conker: Oh, no! A bourgeois, big-bollocked boiler! That's all I need!

 * [Conker knocks the Balls of Brass clean off the Big Big Guy, causing him to malfunction and topple over]
 * First Fire Imp: What the...
 * Both Fire Imps: OH, NO!!!
 * Second Fire Imp: We can't get out through the normal door!
 * First Fire Imp: Oh, what's with this door here? Where does that go?
 * Second Fire Imp: Oh, I don't think we wanna go that way. It's the back passage.
 * First Fire Imp: AAAAGGGGH!!!!!
 * Second Fire Imp: It can't be the only way out. What's this button do? [presses a button, causing an alarm to go off]
 * Computer: WARNING! WARNING! SELF-DESTRUCT IN ONE SECOND!
 * First Fire Imp: Oh, you stupid fu...
 * [the Big Big Guy explodes, causing the fire imps to fly off]

The Great Mighty Poo

 * [First verse]
 * [Clears throat] Mi mi mi mi miiiii …
 * I am the Great Mighty Poo,
 * And I'm gonna throw my shit at you.
 * A huge supply of tish comes from my chocolate starfish.
 * How about some scat, you little twat?

 * [Second verse]
 * Do you really think you'll survive in here?
 * You don't seem to know which creek you're in.
 * Sweet corn is the only thing that makes it through my rear.
 * How d'you think I keep this lovely grin?
 * (Have some more caviar!)

 * [Third verse]
 * Now I'm really getting rather mad.
 * You're like a niggly, tickly, shitty little tag-nut.
 * When I've knocked you out with all my bab,
 * I'm going to take your head and ram it up my butt!

 * Conker: Your butt?
 * Great Mighty Poo: My butt!
 * Conker: Your butt?!
 * Great Mighty Poo: That's right, my butt!
 * Conker: Err …!
 * Great Mighty Poo: My butt!
 * Conker: Agh!
 * Great Mighty Poo: My BUUUUUUUUTT!!!!!!!!!

 * [Final quote]
 * Great Mighty Poo: [After Conker flushes him] Ah! You cursed squirrel! Look what you've done! I'm flushing, I'm flushing! Oh, what a world! What a world! Who'd have thought a good little squirrel like you could've destroyed my beautiful clagginess?!? Ah! I'm going! Oh! Ahh! No! Aaaaaaah!
 * Conker: [Chuckles] Now that's what I call a bowel movement!

Don Weaso

 * [the rock bouncer takes Conker to his boss, Don Weaso]
 * Rock Bouncer: Well, this is the fella.
 * Conker: Get off me!
 * Don Weaso: So! This is the wise guy who tried to steal my dough. Whaddya gotta say for yourself, boy?
 * Conker: Eh, what? [notices Berri] Oh, hey, hey, Berri! How're you doing? It's me!
 * Don Weaso: [to Berri] Do you know this tea leaf?
 * Berri: Yeah! Like I'd associate with a caveman.
 * Don Weaso: [to Conker] The broad does not seem to know you.
 * Berri: Like, is it okay if I go know? I've gotta go powder my nose.
 * Don Weaso: Get outta here. [Berri leaves and Conker shrugs] Right, let's get back to business. I just got one thing to do, though. I'll be with you in a minute. People have gotta show the appropriate levels of respect. When you step outta line, you can expect to be respected back. One of you guys has shown no respect. Who it is? I don't know. Could've been... Frankie! Could've been... Chicho! Could've been... Paulie. [comes to Paulie with a baseball bat and beats him to death] DON'T... YOU... EVER!... DO THAT!... AGAIN!... TO ME!
 * Conker: [scared after seeing Paulie's death] Eh, look, you know, you can have the money. In fact, I've got more money. You can have that too... if you want? Oh no, what am I doing?
 * Don Weaso: You can keep the money. But you gotta do me a little job first.
 * Conker: A job? Oh, yeah, cool, but I mean, I'm gonna have to... I'll have to consider it first. What is it? What do I have to do?
 * Don Weaso: Good, good. I'm glad you accepted... step this way.

 * [Don Weaso takes Conker to a big bomb]
 * Don Weaso: Ok, here's the plan. We got ourselves a little problem. In fact, several little problems. You already got the disguise... so that's that one covered. What else you need is one of these. It's called... a bomb. [Conker picks up the bomb]
 * [a slide shows a picture of an Uga Buga]
 * Don Weaso: These are the problem. Where they came from? I don't know. They seem totally outta place in this ecosystem. But they're here, and they're on my patch. So what I propose that you do... is use your disguise acumen. Take the bomb... [slide shows the entrance to the cave] through here... [slide shows the entrance to the dinosaur's mouth] down here... [slide shows the inside of the dinosaur] out of here... [slide shows the sacrificial altar] and drop it here. And by the way... when that bomb goes off... I suggest you leave town. And if you don't pull it off... I suggest you leave town. [lights the bomb's fuse] Let's go to work.

<hr width="50%">

 * [later, near the end of the game; Conker finds Don Weaso at the entrance of the Feral Reserve Bank]
 * Don Weaso: Whoa! I thought I told ya to leave town! But seein' as you're here... Anyways, we have a little job for you.
 * Conker: Oh, not another one! Look, can't I just go home, please?
 * Don Weaso: I said we may have a little job. Take it or leave it?
 * Conker: Okay, I'll take it.
 * [Berri appears in a leather suit]
 * Berri: Oh, like, these pants are so uncomfortable! [sees Conker] Oh, fancy meeting you here.
 * Conker: Oh, Berri! You look great!
 * Berri: Really?
 * Don Weaso: I thought you said you didn't know this guy.
 * Berri: Oh, yeah, I know him! He's like my boyfriend!
 * Conker: Yeah, that's right! I'm her boyfriend!
 * Don Weaso: Am I interruptin' something here?! When you two little lovebirds are finished with your reunion tête-a-tête shit, maybe we can get on with job at hand, please?
 * Conker: Okay, okay, whaddya want us to do?
 * Don Weaso: Okay, since our little escapades with those cavemen, kinda put me outta business. Now I need to replenish my funds. Here we have it: the Feral Reserve Bank.
 * Conker: Hmm, okay. But I'll do it on one condition only.
 * Don Weaso: What?
 * Conker: That I get an outfit that's as cool as hers!
 * Don Weaso: Deal.

Fangy the Dinosaur and Buga the Knut

 * [Conker stumbles into the Bugga Colosseum; he looks around to see and audience cheering]
 * Conker: Ah, yeah. This is more like it. An appreciative audience at last! Somebody's please to see me! Hey! Yeah, I know, I'm great... Oh, I knew this was too good to be true.
 * [Conker looks up to see Buga the Knut flirting with Jugga in the arena box]
 * Buga the Knut: Open de snapshot, split'im in. Ooh, bleedy-bleed-bleed. Onig, big boner. [sees Conker] Who is aye? A sui-fur-geez. (Who is that? A squirrel.) [stands up to show off his giant bone club] WOMAN!!! Soure de Fangy! Satiide Mantinay. (Send in Fangy! Saturday matinee.)
 * Conker: Not quite sure what going on here, but there seems to be door over there. So I think I'll just mousey on over and say my farewells.

<hr width="50%">

 * [as Conker walks up to the door of the arena, he stands next to an Uga Buga]
 * Conker: Oh, hi. You're going this way, too, I take it. Yeah, I'll just wait here and follow you guys.
 * Uga Buga: [thinking] What the...
 * [the arena door opens; stomping and growling can be heard]
 * Conker: Oh, this doesn't sound good...
 * [Fangy the Dinosaur appears and roars loudly, causing the Uga Buga to fart his pants]
 * Buga the Knut: Caca panty. (Brown loincloth time)
 * [Fangy pounces on the Uga Buga and violently eats it]
 * Conker: [pulls out his pocket watch] Oh, is that the time? I gotta scoot.

<hr width="50%">

 * [Conker hypnotizes Fangy with his pocket watch jumps on the dinosaur's back and makes him eat the remaining victims]
 * Buga the Knut: Ah, well. Some more entertainament. Sendee infanta. (We need some more entertainment. Send in the infantry.)
 * [an Uga Buga blows through a giant horn]
 * Conker: Oh, don't like the looks of this. I think they're sending out the big boys.
 * [the Uga Buga infantry comes into the arena, one falls out of place]
 * Uga Buga: Bruce, get back in liiiine! Stupid prat!
 * Bruce: [thinking] Who moved the line? [gets back in line]
 * Uga Buga: Soure de songay! (Taunt the spuirrel!)
 * [does a tribal chant and dance; when it's finished they charge towards Conker and Fangy]
 * Conker: Okay, big fella. I think it's time for hors d'ourves.

<hr width="50%">

 * Buga the Knut: More da goots and blukka! (More blood and guts!)

<hr width="50%">

 * Conker: [as more of the infantry arrive with spears] Uh-oh. Ranged combat. Now this could be a bit tricky.

<hr width="50%">

 * [after Conker and Fangy defeated the entire Uga Buga infantry]
 * Buga the Knut: Uh, oh, yikes! Dis not supposed to happen! (Oh, dear. That was not supposed to happen)
 * Jugga: Oh, he's so cute, through.
 * Buga the Knut: Eh?!
 * Jugga: He gotta bigga boner than you. (He's got a larger bone than you.)
 * Buga the Knut: No one's got a bigga boner than I! (No one has a bone as big as mine.)
 * Jugga: If you so bigga, you show him, big boy. (If you're so big, why don't you show him, big boy?)
 * Buga the Knut: Uh, I will. [stands up and grabs his bone club] Bigga da boner splat face da squidgy la furry cankee, si! (I'm gonna take my big bone and smash that furry squirrel!)
 * [Buga leaps down to the arena]
 * Conker: Oh, my giddy aunt! This is not good!
 * Buga the Knut: No mistake de big boner. Gia fooka tiide! (Nobody remarks about my bone. You're going to get it squirrel!)
 * Conker: [to Fangy] I know you're not a vegetarian, but I think we should go for the meat and two veg. It looks it needs a bit of tenderizing though, if you know what I mean?
 * [Fangy nods in agreement]

<hr width="50%">

 * [after Buga the Knut is defeated, his loincloth falls off, revealing his secret, causing Jugga to laugh]
 * Conker: [laughs] Big boner?! My ass!
 * Buga the Knut: Ah, my secreta! Teeny weensy private parte! (My secret: my very small willy!)
 * [Buga runs right through the walls of the arena]
 * Conker: Well, so ends another incident in my day.

Count Batula

 * [The door opens as Conker looked around the house and Count Batula comes down the stairs]
 * Count Batula: Ah! Velcome to my house. Please enter of zyour own free vill. And bring vith you some of the happiness that is so evident in your face, and so lacking in my own.
 * Conker: Huh! He's not kidding there! Okay, I'll just cross this threshold here. Hm, I'm sure that's of some significance, but can't think what it is. Anyway, nice hairdo.
 * Count Batula: Vat?
 * Conker: Nothing!
 * Count Batula: So? Ve seldom have visitors in these parts, vat being out here, in ze middle of nowhere, on such a cold and gloomy night. Pray, follow me.
 * [The door closes as Conker and Count Batula head for the dining room]
 * Count Batula: You look as if you are in need of sustenance, and I have many zings to eat … and drink! Pray, follow.
 * Conker: Oh, okay. Food, yeah … getting a bit sick of chocolate, anyway.
 * Count Batula: This vay.
 * [As Conker and Count Batula head to the dining room]
 * Count Batula: As you can see, the house is in some-vat a state of repair. Ve are having a few refurbishments doing at ze moment and … I vas going to have all zis knocked through, to make one big, eh … but anyvay, I think ve'll just stick to ze conservatory, for the present. Ah, my dining room.
 * [Conker starts eating a chicken drumstick and drinking wine as Count Batula holds the bottle]
 * Conker: Very nice!
 * Count Batula: More vine?
 * Conker: I don't mind if I do, thank you.
 * [Count Batula pours more wine in the cup, as Conker continues eating and drinking]
 * Conker: Eh, y-you're not drinking, then?
 * Count Batula: No. I never drink … vine. [laughs]
 * Conker: So, em, uh, [slurp] who's this guy here? He looks, eh … he looks like you!
 * Count Batula: Mmm … my forefather. He vas a crusader in a war of long ago. When ve were allies … vit ze squirrels and ze panthers. Zat union – alas! – vas not successful.
 * Conker: Yeah, and he had really stupid teeth, as well! Didn't they have any dentists back then?
 * Count Batula: Enough! Who are you to criticize me or my ancestors, whose blood runs in zrough zhese veins? You are not of noble birth, and never vill be.
 * [Count Batula calms down and backs up away from Conker]
 * Count Batula: Pray, accept my apologies. Vhenever I talk about my ancestors, I get somewhat … touchy.
 * Conker: Aw, that's all right. I know how it is, families! So, eh, ya been here long?
 * Count Batula: Hmm, about 300 years!
 * Conker: Really? Huh, quite a big family, then?
 * Count Batula: No, it's just me.
 * [The wolves starts howling]
 * Conker: Oh! What's that noise?
 * Count Batula: Ah, the children of the night. Vat sweet music they make.
 * Conker: Music? They're howling.
 * [Suddenly, there is a big thump on the front door]
 * Count Batula: Vat is that noise?
 * [The thumps on the front door are getting louder]
 * Conker: Sounds like somebody's braying on the door! They don't like you either, I take it.
 * Count Batula: Ah, shit. Ze villagers again. Sounds like zhere is more of zem zis time. Zis could be your lucky night, Conker. I vas going to kill you … and drink your blood. But now I think I will be needing your help. Pray, come here.
 * Conker: Eh, can we just go back a bit there? That "drinking my blood" bit. What's all that abou…
 * Count Batula: I said, come here!
 * [Count Batula bites Conker and the villagers barge in]

<hr width="50%" />

 * [Later, after Count Batula bites Conker, he turns himself into a bat and hangs on to a ceiling]
 * Count Batula: Ah, delicious. And familiar. Yes, I think you are my great, great, great, great, great grandson, Conker. Velcome to ze family. [laughs] Velcome indeed. I have a little task for you. These little villagers … occasionally pop into my establishment, to have a little fun … and see if they can kill me! It's never vorked yet! As you can see, I've had a few … minor alterations to the house. Ve have ze grinder! And ve have ze pumps. And ve have some other bits and pieces. It is your duty, your errand, indeed, the whole point of your existence, as of zis day, is to fetch me ze villagers, put zem in ze grinder, and let me feed. You may feed too, if you vish, but only later! Vell?
 * [Conker starts talking bat]
 * Count Batula: Ah yes, I forgot. You can only speak like vat you are … a bat! Right, chop-chop, fetch me ze villagers. I am hungry.

<hr width="50%" />

 * [Final quote]
 * Count Batula: Oh! I think I have drunk too much. Ah, shit…
 * [Count Batula falls to the grinder and dies; then, Conker starts to turn back to normal]
 * Conker: That doesn't happen to you every day.
 * [Then a lot of zombies spawn all around the mansion]
 * Conker: Ah! more zombies... time for the double barrel boy, hopefully for the last time.

Private Rodent and the Tedi Experiment

 * [Conker enters the the Tediz Laboratory and spots two Tediz Surgeons conversing with each other. They both are speaking normally for this scene]
 * Conker: This is a bit different. What are those guys? Oh, more Tediz.
 * Tedi Surgeon 2: Really, that's incredible.
 * Tedi Surgeon 1: What if you were to give this game to, say, twenty... Intelligent people, I mean, what would that do? Let's face it, what would it do?
 * Tedi Surgeon 2: Really, that's interesting.
 * [Conker cocks his gun from offscreen, drawing the Tediz's attention]
 * Tedi Surgeon 1: What the fuck?! It's that bloody squirrel! Quick, into character!
 * [both Tediz start growling incomprehensibly and waving bloodied scalpels menacingly]

<hr width="50%" />

 * [Conker sneaks into the Tediz's Facility to find Private Rodent tied to a stake at gunpoint]
 * Tedi: Soonech... Any ras questa? (So then, any last requests}
 * Rodent: Could you untie me? Just let me go, please?
 * Tedi: Nah! (No!) Sourde ente arms! Sourde aim!(Present arms! Take aim!) Ectorit, ectorit... (Wait for it, wait for it..) Choosa targ! (Choose a target!) Soure... Fire!
 * [the Tediz shoot at Rodent, but Rodent ducks into his bulletproof armor]

<hr width="50%" />

 * [after Conker kills off the Tediz that were holding Rodent hostage.]
 * Conker: Hey! Hey, fella! Fella, c'mon! [Rodent pops his head out] This is not the place you wanna be hanging around.
 * Rodent: What do you mean? Oh! Oh, hey! You killed them! That's great! Thanks for that, Conker!
 * Conker: What? Oh! Hey! Hey, it's Rodent isn't it? How ya doin'?
 * Rodent: Um, not too good at the moment. They wanted to kill me!
 * Conker: Yeah, well, they're dead now. Say, I noticed that your outfit is a little bit different to the usual army regulation attire. What is it?
 * Rodent: Oh, yeah. It's Experiment #G7224. I'm the first to be fitted with this. It's an indestructible... erm, titanium laminate.
 * Conker: Right, so what does that mean?
 * Rodent: Oh, it means that if somebody shoots me, I don't die.
 * Conker: Really. That's a pretty good idea. I'll get me some of them.
 * Rodent: It's the only one. Very expensive! Anyway, stick behind me and you should be alright. I can be your operation squirrel shield. What do ya say?
 * Conker: Sounds good to me. Right, which way?
 * Rodent: Eenie, meenie, minie, moe!
 * Conker: [pulls out his machine guns] Right, let's go.

<hr width="50%" />

 * [a siren goes off; bomber planes fly above the facility]
 * Conker: What's that up there? Looks like bombers. Hmm, they're bringing out the heavy stuff. You go first.
 * Rodent: Oh, okay, I'll go first.
 * Conker: Go on then.

<hr width="50%" />

 * [Conker and Rodent enter an empty keep with a tank]
 * Conker: At least there's no Tediz here. Oh, a tank! Now that may come in handy.
 * Rodent: Oh, a tank! It's a Class 22 as well! I haven't got one of them yet!
 * Conker: What do you mean "got one"? Hey, where you going?!
 * Rodent: Oooh, Class 22! Sweet! Sweet, sweet, sweet! Uh, I'm gonna look inside! [hops into the tank's cockpit]
 * Conker: Okay, do what you like.
 * Rodent: Oh, look at those. This is great! I've always wanted to be in a Class 22, and here I am!

<hr width="50%" />

 * ''[with the help of Rodent and the Class 22 tank, Conker lands into an underground room where a little girl seems to be stuck in a hole in the middle of the floor.
 * Little Girl: [crying] Mummy! I want my mummy! Mummy! Boohoo! [sees Conker] Hello, it's a wittle squirrel. Hello. Help me! Please!
 * Conker: Uh, it's a little girl. It's dangerous around here, little girl. I don't think you wanna be here.
 * Little Girl: Have you come wescue me?
 * Conker: [hears a submarine's sonar] What is that?
 * Little Girl: That's the Inverse Phase Sonar. Very efficient with em, ooh!
 * Conker: How'd you know about that?!
 * Little Girl: Uh, school?
 * Conker: I never learnt things like that at school. Anyway, what is it?
 * Little Girl: It fires a missile, I think. A Teddifunkin U47 Intercontilental Ballistic Missile.
 * Conker: A missile?
 * Little Girl: Yes, like that one!
 * [a missile flies into the room; Conker jumps just in time before it hits him]
 * Conker: Don't you worry, little girl! I'll rescue you.
 * Little Girl: Oh, goody goody!
 * Conker: [to the audience] Yeah, her parents are bound to have some cash.

<hr width="50%" />

 * [after Conker takes down all the missile-firing submarines, he goes back to the little girl]
 * Little Girl: I'm so... so happy! I'm going to see my mummy and daddy again!
 * Conker: Yeah, yeah, yeah, okay. Come on, let's try to get you outta here. [as Conker reaches for the girl; Rodent and his tank drops into the room] What the... Oh, it's you guys.
 * [Rodent peeks out of the cockpit and sees that the little girl's eye turn green for a split second]
 * Rodent: [in slow motion] CONKER!!! NOOO!!!!
 * [Conker backs away as the little girl's head rotates 360°, showing her menacingly green eyes]
 * Little Girl: [in a scary, Tedi-like voice] Do you know what your fucking daughter did?!
 * Conker: What? I don't have a daughter.
 * [a section of the floor opens to reveal that the little girl was part of giant experimental Tedi cyborg]
 * Little Girl: Yes! I haven't been a little girl for some time now! [laughs maniacally, then her voice returns to normal] Yes, Mr. Squirrel. I'm the brains and eyes, and he's the brawn.

<hr width="50%" />

 * [as Conker is about to enter the tank]
 * Conker: Quick, get outta the way! I'm takin' over!

<hr width="50%" />

 * Little Girl: Now, then. Lesson one: Ballistics. [two giant machine guns appear from the cyborg's sides] This is my mini-gun. It fires 8000 per second, Brass-cased 8mm, with tungsten alloy heads, and high explosive charge. Very, very, messy!

<hr width="50%" />

 * Little Girl: [scary voice] You little...! [normal voice] No! No. Must keep my cool.

<hr width="50%" />

 * Little Girl: [two giant laser guns appear] Ah, now this is very special: High-energy inverted magneto laser, with a six-pronged attack.

<hr width="50%" />

 * Little Girl: You little (Beep). No, no, keep calm, keep calm.

<hr width="50%" />

 * Little Girl: Ah, missiles! [two giant missile launchers appear] I think you're already familiar with these. Mark twos this time however. Fur-guided, with multiple warheads, of course. Don't fancy your chances very much, Mr. Squirrel.

<hr width="50%" />

 * Little Girl: You (Beep). No, no, keep calm, keep calm.

<hr width="50%" />

 * [as the cyborg Tedi is destroyed]
 * Little Girl: What? Get up! Get up! I command you to get up! Oh, this is the end! My little babies! Yes, my little babies.
 * [two spider-bombs crawl out of the cyborg and onto the tank, exploding it]
 * Conker: Oh, the tank's gone. Well, it served us well. Rodent? Rodent? [he sees Rodent lying on the ground, supposedly dead] Oh, no! He didn't make it. He was a great guy, a superb soldier, a military tactician. And yet, he was mortal, like the rest of us. But at least we showed that bitch who's boss.
 * Little Girl: Mr. Squirrel! Guess what: The show's not over till the little girl sings. Ooh, what's this? A little red button. I think I'll press it. [presses the button; a countdown appears] Ooh, and what is that? Lovely countdown. I wonder what's going to happen now. [laughs maniacally]
 * Conker: Self-destruct! Oooaaahh! Give me strength!

<hr width="50%" />

 * [after the war, Conker makes it back to the main world to find the windmill destroyed when Rodent(who is still alive) was blasted by the self-destruct]
 * Conker: Oh, no! Where did the windmill go?! I was sure that was the final level. Ah, well, obviously not. [Rodent appears] Rodent! Hey, it's good to see ya, man! What happened?
 * Rodent: A bit sore but, you know what? I reckon that that suit really works! I was flying through the air, next thing is, bam! I saw this thing coming towards me! Kinda like a windmill. Uh, doesn't seem to be there anymore. Ah, well, never mind. At least I'm still here. So what's happening?
 * Conker: Um, I'm not really sure. But the war seems to be over. You may as well go on your way. Give my regards to the guys.
 * Rodent: Yeah. I will. Catch ya later?
 * Conker: Catch ya later. You can buy me a pint.
 * Rodent: Okay. Conker, can I just say something?
 * Conker: Yes, that depends what it is.
 * Rodent: It was a real privilege working with you. I would have to say that if ever I needed to go through an operation such as that again, I hope that it's with you.
 * Conker: Oh, that's very nice of you to say.
 * Rodent: Thank you, sir!
 * Conker: Yeah. Thank you, soldier! Uh, dismissed!
 * Rodent: [leaves] What a great guy!
 * Conker: [after Rodent leaves] Idiot.

Final Battle with the Panther King

 * [Conker and Berri were sent by Don Weaso to rob the Feral Reserve Bank; after Conker has taken all the money]
 * Conker: Phew! Finally, got it! Aw, cool! Millionaire! [laughs] I'm a millionaire, Berri! Hey, Berri, what are ya lookin' at?
 * Berri: Conker, honey!
 * [Conker turns around to see the Panther King sitting on his throne]
 * Conker: Aw, easy come, easy go. Who's this guy? Berri, do know who he is?
 * Berri: You got me.
 * Panther King: Hmmm, yes... At last, a red squirrel. Good!
 * Conker: A red squirrel? Oh, I think he means me. I don't recognize this guy, unless he's the fabled Panther King. But he lives just in stories, like my mum used to tell me to get me to sleep. Looks like he was real after all, the fairy Panther King.
 * Panther King: Who are you calling a fairy?!
 * Conker: No, no, as in like fairy, as in ephemeral, like a fable, like a legend... You know, like, doesn't exi... Doesn't matter.
 * Panther King: Oh, no. Doesn't matter. Not anymore, not for you! Weaso!
 * Don Weaso: Right here, boss.
 * Panther King: Your bounty. [a wad of cash hops towards Weaso]
 * Don Weaso: Ah, thanks very much. What're we gonna do with him?
 * Panther King: You leave him to me.
 * Don Weaso: So you're not gonna kill him?
 * Panther King: Not exactly.
 * Berri: Step aside, Conker. I know how to deal with men like this.
 * Panther King: Such loyalty... misplaced. Get rid of her!
 * Don Weaso: The easiest thing in the world. [pulls out a machine gun] Sorry, dollface, business is business. Adios!
 * [Weaso violently shoots Berri to death]
 * Conker: What the...?! Hey, mind where you're sh... Berri? Hey, Berri? Oh, no! [angrily glares at the Panther King]
 * Don Weaso: No problem, boss. [the Panther King begins to choke] Boss? You feelin' alright?
 * Panther King: Bit of indigestion. Where's my... milk? Professor! Professor!
 * [Professor von Kriplespac appears from behind the throne]
 * Professor: Ah, my liege! How do you feel?
 * Panther King: Not good! The sooner we get... this squirrel in place, the sooner I'll get my milk. It's getting worse!
 * Professor: Ah, yes, that's right, my liege. It vould be getting vorse... Oh, oh really?! Oh, you don't look too so good. Let's see, now, milk, yes... Ah, ze squirrel, yes! Ze problem is solved methinks! [comes toward Conker] Right, squirrel, I think you are coming vit me!
 * Conker: What's going on here?
 * [the Panther King's choking gets worse]
 * Panther King: What's going... on?!
 * Professor: Ah, yes, here it comes.
 * Don Weaso: Not sure what's goin' on here, but I think it's time to make an exit.
 * Panther King: [choking gets even worse] Can't breathe...
 * Professor: Since this squirrel got rid of my Tediz, [aside to Conker] bastard! [continuing] I zink ze latest addition to my plans is about to take shape. Ze incubation period is just about complete, not a moment too soon. Yes... Yes, my liege, let us kill two birds vit one stone!
 * [Finally, a giant Xenomorph named Heinrich bursts out of the Panther King's chest, killing the host; Conker and Weaso are shocked and frightened by Heinrich]
 * Don Weaso: What the...?!
 * Conker: Oh, no!
 * Professor: Oh, yes!
 * [Don Weaso escapes]
 * Professor: [comes toward Heinrich and pets him] Ah, come here! Ah, such a beautiful animal! Even though he is about to annihilate you squirrel, rip you limb from limb, you cannot help but admire his beauty, his power, his... poise! He is not a vonderful creature, is he?
 * Conker: You're right there, he's not!
 * Professor: [to Heinrich] Just ignore him! Ha, right! I'm fucked if I'm going to live in this world and this castle! So out of date! I have something known as technology! Take us into orbit. Ja.
 * [the whole place shakes as the room is blasted off into outer space]
 * Professor: You see ze power of liquid nitrogen mixed with oxygen, two parts petrol. Ja!
 * Conker: I'm never gonna get home now.
 * Professor: Heinrich... kill!

<hr width="50%">
 * [Conker opens the airlock; the Panther King's corpse and his throne is sucked out into space]
 * Computer: ''WARNING! WARNING! AIRLOCK OPEN! AIR PRESSURE COMPROMISED!
 * [Conker goes into a room and comes wearing a heavy spacesuit; Heinrich claws at Berri's corpse]
 * Conker: Get away from her, you bitch!
 * [Berri's corpse is sucked into space]
 * Professor: Oh! Oh, no! Vat is..?! Oh, I forgot about ze airlocks! Oh, shit! Vat ze fuck?! Oh! I didn't put ze high-powered boosters on my chair! I knew I should have done that! Whose idea was to go into space?! [his chair gets sucked into space] Oh, it was mine! Shit! Zis is it! Zis is ze end! No legs, and now no life! [gets sucked into space]

Epilogue

 * [after Conker tries to throw Heinrich out of the airlock three times, he keeps coming back]
 * Conker: Oh, no! I felt sure that was it! Oh, this is the end! And to think it would end like this, so near! [just as Heinrich is about to pounce onto Conker, everything freezes, except Conker] Huh? Hello? What's going on? Is this a joke? [comes out of the spacesuit] The game's locked up! Ha! I don't believe it! What is this? Is this the testing department's day off or something? Hmm... This gives me an idea.

<hr width="50%">
 * Conker: Um, hello? Uh, if there are any software engineers who can here me, just, uh, type something in.
 * Programmer: C:> Hello.
 * Conker: Alright, yeah, hello. Right! He's the plan: I won't tell anyone that there's been a lockup, quite a bad one at that, left in the game. If you will, say... I don't know, help me out with this guy here? Whadya think?
 * Programmer: C:> Err... OK.
 * Conker: Hmmm. Now, uh, get rid of this background. It's really grimy.
 * [the background turns blank]
 * Programmer: C:> How's that?
 * Conker: Yeah, that's better! Uh, weapons maybe?
 * Programmer: C:> No problem.
 * [a whole rack of weapons appear]
 * Conker: Oh, cool! Let's see now. Hmm, yeah. Uh, no. Oh, what about? [picks up a shotgun] Ho-ho! Oh-ho-ho! Yeah. That should do it. Huh. Double action. [puts the gun away] Oh! Ha, you guys! [grabs a katana] Yeah! Right. Okay, take me back to, say, the throne room.
 * Programmer: C:> OK.
 * [Conker and a still-frozen Heinrich appear back at the Panther King's throne room]
 * Conker: Cool! Now, Mr. Alien, let's see. Okay, let's get into position. Steady... Just check the shot, there we go. Right. On my mark, and not a moment sooner. Three... two... one... and action! [Heinrich comes back to life and is confused; Conker decapitates him with his katana] Oh, no! That's a bit volatile. Well, clean that up later. Well, I suppose that's it! Anything else? [the door opens] Who're these guys? [Franky appears] Oh, hello. It's you again.
 * Franky: Well, if it isn't Conker! How you doin', Mr. Squirrel? You have defeated the evil Panther-type King!
 * Weasel Guard 1: Yes! We didn't like him either. In fact, there seems to be an empty throne.
 * Weasel Guard 2: Too bloody right that there is. Come on, Conker. Up on t'throne wi'ya.
 * Conker: What? But I... No, you don't understand. I don't really wanna be king. I.. Oh! Oh, no! I forgot to... I should have brought Berri back to life! Oh, no! Hello, programmer! Aw, they're gone! [the weasel guards carry Conker to the throne] What're you doing?! Get off me!
 * Franky: It's okay. It'll be good! Here's the rest of the guys!
 * Marvin: [stitched together after his explosion] Marvelous! Yeah, I like it in here! [a piece of cheese hops past him] Ooh, cheese!
 * Paintbrush: [laughs] You're king!
 * Paintpot: Heh, heh, king?! You couldn't be king of a toilet!
 * Paintbrush: Yeah, king of a toilet!
 * Paintpot: You don't know how close you are! You realize that? You just do not know!
 * Paintbrush: Oh, sorry.
 * Rodent: Conker?! You's king! Who'd have thought that?! Can I be your general?
 * Conker: Oh, no. Of all the people in the world that I don't like, and I'm in a room full of'em.
 * Lady Cog: I heard the good news, we came back from holiday as soon as we could, just to celebrate with you on this wonderful momentous occasion! Didn't we, ladies?
 * Weasel Guard 1: [puts a crown on a scowling Conker] There we go. The king is dead. Long live the king!
 * Franky: Yeah! Long live the king!
 * Paintpot: Long live the king! Heheh!
 * Paintbrush: Yeah, long live the king!
 * Paintpot: Will you stop repeatin' me?!
 * Paintbrush: I'm not, I'm repeating him. [referring to Franky]
 * Lady Cog: Long live the king!
 * Rodent: Yeah! Long live the king!
 * [everybody keeps chanting "Long live the king!"]

<hr width="50%">
 * Conker: So, here I am, King. King of all the land. Who'd have thought that? Huh, not me. I guess you know who these guys are now, because I certainly do. I don't wanna know them. And yup, I may be king, I have all the money in the world and all the land, and all that stuff. But you know, I don't really think I want it. I just wanna go home, with Berri, and, I don't know, have a bottle of beer. Hmmm. [heavy sad sigh] It's not gonna happen. It's true what they say, "The grass is always greener, and you don't really know what it is you have, until it's gone. Gone. [his eyes shift up to stare toward the screen] Gone."

<hr width="50%">
 * [a depressed Conker is sitting at the bar in the Cock and Plucker, where his adventure began]
 * Bartender: So, what'll it be?
 * Conker: Um, scotch, single malt, speyside, no ice.
 * Bartender: Hmm, a man of taste. [pours Conker his drink] There you go.
 * Conker: Whoa, whoa there, cowboy. Keep it comin'. Oh, leave the bottle.
 * Bartender: Yeah. [gives Conker his drink] Lookin' a bit down. What's the matter?
 * Conker: Ugh... You wouldn't believe it. Anyway, I don't wanna talk about it. I'll just drink this.
 * [after he drinks his scotch whiskey, he walks outside hungover during a storm, just like the beginning]
 * Conker: Doesn't look too good tonight.
 * [Conker walks out of the Cock and Plucker and this time walks the opposite direction he took previously]

Jack

 * Jack: I say, I say, little fella. You better get this fat-ass bitch off-a my back, pronto.
 * Conker: Geee! So many people round here want me to solve their problems. What are you gonna do for me then?
 * Jack: I'll tell ya what I'm gonna do, I say, I'll tell ya what I'm gonna do. You get rid of that freaking mouse critter, and maybe I'll help you out. Just maybe. Oh, just one more thing, I say, just one more thing. You might run into my friend, Burt. Just mention my name, Jack, and everything will be just dandy.

<hr width=50%>
 * Jack: Aahh! I couldn't a lasted a moment longer there. Thank you very much, Mr. Squirrel. Now, there's somethin' real neat inside that barn. You just gotta get in there, sonny.

Carl/Quentin

 * Carl: Fuck off!
 * Conker: Why is it everybody's so offensive round here?
 * Carl: Either bring me back my missing cogs or fuck off!!
 * Conker: You don't have to shout.
 * Carl: I'm deaf! Speak up or fuck off!
 * Conker: Hmm... Hang on a sec!
 * [he flips the cigar cog upside down to a fancy cigarette holder cog]
 * Quentin: Well, hello. And aren't you the handsome one? Tell me, would you be prepared to do me a small favor? For a little help, of course.
 * Conker: Hi — and Uhm, yes, I would, maybe.
 * Quentin: You see, my other self has lost a few of his — shall we say, friends — and if you don't get them back, my life will be a misery. It already is.
 * Conker: And?
 * Quentin: Just get them back. There's a good fellow. Oh, ta! Ta ta! [flips back]
 * Carl: Erh! You twat!! Don't ever do that again. Now fuck off!

<hr width=50%>
 * Carl: Ey up, bloody hell. C'mon, put it on quick. Put it on, I like it like that. [Conker inserts female cog face-first below cigar cog] Oooooohhh! Aaaaaahhh! Fan fucking tastic.
 * Conker: Erm... Oh, hang on, I think I got it on the wrong way round.
 * Carl: Like bugger you have! What is ya doing? What— [Conker places female cog backward] Aw fuck!

<hr width=50%>
 * Carl: Yeah, go on! Get t'other one on.

<hr width=50%>
 * Carl: Thanks, fuckhead! Now, go on. Fuck off with you!

<hr width=50%>
 * Carl: Twattin' shite! That's tossed it right up the arse.
 * Lady Cog: I do declare, ladies, we are free at last; to exact our revenge on this evil cog! Grab him!
 * [the Lady Cogs beat Carl up and put him on Mr. Big Cog]
 * Carl: Oh, no! Not Mr. Big Cog! That's me buggered. Ugh, I'm out of here. [flips over]
 * Quentin: I say, I don't know what his problem is. I find it rather delicious. Thank you, Mr. Squirrel.
 * Conker: Oh! My pleasure.
 * Quentin: Yes, and I'll think you'll find that your little problem outside has been thoroughly taken care of.
 * Conker: Oh, cool!
 * Quentin: Now, good day to you, sir.
 * Conker: [to himself] toffee-nosed snob!
 * Lady Cog: Why, thank you, Mr. Squirrel! [kisses Conker] Come on, ladies! It's the Caribbean for us!

Weasel Guards

 * [two guards stopped Conker from crossing the bridge to the other side of the canyon]
 * Weasel Guard 1: Halt!
 * Conker: Em, can I get past?
 * Weasel Guard 1: No, you have to pay...em, the toll! Yes.
 * Conker: A toll. How much?
 * Weasel Guard 1: Em, $1,000. Yep, $1,000!
 * Weasel Guard 2: $1,000 should do it. $500 each. Come on, cough up. He doesn't look like he's got it.
 * Weasel Guard 1: Nah, looks like kind of a pauper. Skedaddle!
 * Conker: $1,000! Means I gotta go back that way. [Conker crosses the same bridge he crossed before the guards stopped him from crossing to the other side of the canyon]
 * Weasel Guard 1: Squirrels, what do they look like?
 * Weasel Guard 2: Em, I can't remember!
 * Weasel Guard 1: I'm sure it'll come back. Right, let's keep...guarding!

<hr width=50%>
 * [one of the guards is doing his business behind a rock while the other stands guard]
 * Weasel Guard 1: You'll have to pay the toll.
 * Conker: You mercenaries! [pulls out a wad of cash] Here ya go, $1,000.
 * Weasel Guard 1: Thank you. [takes the money]
 * Conker: Can I get past now?
 * Weasel Guard 1: Hey, I'm not finished yet. We're looking for a squirrel. And I think, by the description given to me, that you are a squirrel!
 * Conker: I am not a squirrel.
 * Weasel Guard 1: Yes, you are! You fit the description perfectly.
 * Conker: Oh, really, and could you describe this description to me?
 * Weasel Guard 1: Well... short, red fur, a big bushy tail, and a twitchy nose. You're a squirrel alright, and you're coming with me!
 * [he gets ready to grab Conker]
 * Conker: Look, I tell you, I'm not a squirrel, so get your hands off me!
 * Weasel Guard 1: Well, what are you then?
 * Conker: I'm an elephant! Squirrels aren't short and furry, they're big and grey!
 * Weasel Guard 1: What?
 * Conker: Yeah! And as for twitchy noses...
 * Weasel Guard 1: They don't have them?
 * Conker: No, they're long and snouty! And they also have flappy ears.
 * Weasel Guard 1: Are you sure?
 * Conker: [scoffs] Of course I'm sure! Seeya!
 * [he crosses the bridge to the other side of the canyon, just as the second guard finishes his duty]
 * Weasel Guard 2: Ah, there's nothing quite like a good shite. Now then...
 * [he sees Conker and is shocked]
 * Weasel Guard 1: It's alright, it's alright, that's not a squirrel, he's an elephant.
 * Weasel Guard 2: An elephant. You stupid twat.
 * Conker: Oh, yeah. Let's see.
 * [he whistles and the wad of cash comes back to him]

Game Over Scenes

 * Panther King: Yes, much better. I won't be spilling my milk anymore.
 * Weasel Guard 1: Yes, Boss. And we won't be getting the duct tape.
 * [Conker is shown tied up from neck to ankles and wedged neatly in the space between the missing table leg and the floor]

 * Panther King: So.. did you get him?
 * Weasel Guard 1: Yes, we got him. [drops a bloody piece of Conker's corpse] A bit messy though. [laughs maniacally]
 * Panther King: Ah! good.

 * Panther King: Well... Have you got him this time?
 * Weasel Guard 1: Kind of, boss. Err... [drops a wet piece of Conker's corpse] Uhh! A bit soggy, though. Sorry.
 * Panther King: Oh well, not to worry.

 * Panther King: Well... Have you got him yet?
 * Weasel Guard 1: Yes, boss. [drops a hot piece of Conker's corpse] But he's a bit frazzled.
 * Panther King: Ah well... Never mind.

title: Conker's Bad Fur Day


text:
Germaine Greer

Germaine Greer (born 29 January 1939) is an Australian author, academic, critic and journalist.

Quotes

 * Women have somehow been separated from their libido, from their faculty of desire, from their sexuality. They've become suspicious about it. Like beasts, for example, who are castrated in farming in order to serve their master's ulterior motives — to be fattened or made docile — women have been cut off from their capacity for action. It's a process that sacrifices vigour for delicacy and succulence, and one that's got to be changed.
 * As quoted in "Germaine Greer — Opinions That May Shock the Faithful" by Judith Weinraub in The New York Times (22 March 1971)

 * The term eunuchs was used by Eldridge Cleaver to describe blacks. It occurred to me that women were in a somewhat similar position. Blacks had been emancipated from slavery but never given any kind of meaningful freedom, while women were given the vote but denied sexual freedom. In the final analysis, women aren't really free until their libidos are recognized as separate entities. Some of the suffragettes understood this. They could see the connection among the vote, political power, independence and being able to express their sexuality according to their own experience, instead of in reference to a demand by somebody else. But they were regarded as crazy and were virtually crucified. Thinking about them, I suddenly realized, Christ, we've been castrated and that's what it's all about. You see, it's all very well to let a bullock out into the field when you've already cut his balls off, because you know he's not going to do anything. That's exactly what happened to women.
 * On how she chose the title for The Female Eunuch, in an interview by Nat Lehrman in Playboy (January 1972)

 * The compelled mother loves her child as the caged bird sings. The song does not justify the cage nor the love the enforcement.
 * Article "Abortion", The Sunday Times (21 May 1972)

 * Human beings have an inalienable right to invent themselves; when that right is pre-empted it is called brain-washing.
 * The Times, London (1 February 1986)

 * No one goes to the toilet in novels. You'd think none of us had bladders.
 * Newsnight Review (24 July 2009)

This process can be discerned clearly and repeatedly in the caseload of the Everyday Sexism project. Though much of what is reported is criminal behaviour and not normalised at all, as the victims persist in imagining that whatever happened was their fault, there can be no access to redress. They should be furious but are terrified and ashamed instead. As long as a rape victim is considered to need anonymity, she is expected to shoulder shame and self-hatred as a consequence of someone else’s behaviour. Enough. Enough. Simply coughing up outrage into a blog will get us nowhere.
 * Sexism is here a misleading name for misogyny, which is distrust, hatred and contempt of women. And it's not just men who feel these feelings and act on them. Women persecute other women, humiliate them and discriminate against them. They may not grab their tits or threaten to rape them; women have more effective ways of doing other women in. "Horizontal hostility", another gem from the Flo Kennedy thesaurus, is a by-product of oppression. Oppressed people don’t dare denounce the actual oppressor; instead they betray the people alongside them. They see their shared suffering as the consequence of a defect within themselves. What should be anger becomes guilt and self-blame.
 * "Germaine Greer: the failures of the new feminism", New Statesman (14 May 2014, updated 2 June 2014)
 * From a review of Laura Bates' Everyday Sexism (Simon & Schuster). Greer also reviewed Holly Baxter and Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett's The Vagenda (Square Peg), a book inspired by their online magazine.

 * How do we form ourselves into an activity—a force to improve the situation? I don't have the answers. I'm an academic—[we're] the most useless people in the world.
 * FemiFest radical feminist conference, London (31 August 2014)

The Female Eunuch (1970)

 * Farrar, Straus and Giroux, ISBN 0-374-52762-8

 * Freedom is fragile and must be protected. To sacrifice it, even as a temporary measure, is to betray it.
 * Introduction
 * With them she can discover cooperation, sympathy and love. The end cannot justify the means: if she finds that her revolutionary way leads only to further discipline and continuing incomprehension, with their corollaries of bitterness and diminution, no matter how glittering the objective which would justify it, she must understand that it is a wrong way and an illusory end. The struggle which is not joyous is the wrong struggle. The joy of the struggle is not hedonism and hilarity, but the sense of purpose, achievement and dignity which is the reflowering of etiolated energy. Only these can sustain her and keep the flow of energy coming. The problems are only equalled by the possibilities: every mistake made is redeemed when it is understood. The only ways in which she can feel such joy are radical ones: the more derided and maligned the action that she undertakes, the more radical.
 * Introduction
 * The fear of freedom is strong in us. We call it chaos or anarchy, and the words are threatening. We live in a true chaos of contradicting authorities, an age of conformism without community, of proximity without communication. We could only fear chaos if we imagined that it was unknown to us, but in fact we know it very well. It is unlikely that the techniques of liberation spontaneously adopted by women will be in such fierce conflict as exists between warring self-interests and conflicting dogmas, for they will not seek to eliminate all systems but their own. However diverse they may be, they need not be utterly irreconcilable, because they will not be conquistatorial.
 * Introduction

 * If you think you are emancipated, you might consider the idea of tasting your own menstrual blood - if it makes you sick, you've got a long way to go, baby.
 * The Wicked Womb (p. 57)

 * In that mysterious dimension where the body meets the soul the stereotype is born and has her being. She is more body than soul, more soul than mind. To her belongs all that is beautiful, even the very word beauty itself. All that exists, exists to beautify her.
 * The Stereotype

 * The stereotype is the Eternal Feminine. She is the sexual object sought by all men, and all women. She is of neither sex for she herself has no sex at all. Her value is solely attested by the demand she excites in others. All she must contribute is her existence. She need achieve nothing, for she is the reward of achievement. She need never give positive evidence of her moral character because virtue is assumed from her loveliness, and her passivity.
 * The Stereotype
 * Nobody wants a girl whose beauty is imperceptible to all but him...
 * The Stereotype (p. 67)

 * Freud is the father of psychoanalysis. It had no mother.
 * The Psychological Sell (p. 104), as quoted in
 * Nothing is more chilling than such a spectacle of unremitting self-sacrifice. This is a woman born to be abandoned by her ungrateful husband at the very pinnacle of success she helped to make for him, for a shameless hussy of nineteen.
 * The Psychological Sell
 * Even crushed against his brother in the Tube the average Englishman pretends desperately that he is alone.
 * Womanpower (p. 128)

 * The failure of women to produce great works of art and all that can be explained in terms of this statement. Insofar as she escapes or rejects her conditioning, the little girl may excel in those kinds of intellectual activity that are called creative, but eventually she either capitulates to her conditioning, or the conflicts become so pressing that her efficiency is hampered.
 * The Raw Material
 * Women have been charged with deviousness and duplicity since the dawn of civilization so they have never been able to pretend that their masks were anything but masks. It is a slender case but perhaps it does mean that women have always been in closer contact with reality than men: it would seem to be the just recompense for being deprived of idealism.
 * Womanpower (p. 129)

 * The principle of the brotherhood of man is that narcissistic one, for the grounds for that love have always been the assumption that we ought to realize that we are the same the whole world over.
 * The Ideal (p. 159)

 * Man is jealous because of his amour propre; woman is jealous because of her lack of it.
 * Love: Egotism (p. 155)

 * Women have very little idea of how much men hate them.
 * (p. 263)
 * Often paraphrased as: "women have no idea how much men hate them."

 * Loneliness is never more cruel than when it is felt in close propinquity with someone who has ceased to communicate.
 * Security (p. 274)

 * They still say "fuck you" as a venomous insult; they still find "cunt" the most degrading epithet outside the dictionary.
 * On men, in Hate (p. 287)

 * The surest guide to the correctness of the path that women take is joy in the struggle. Revolution is the festival of the oppressed.
 * Revolution

The Obstacle Race (1979)

 * Farrar, Straus and Giroux, ISBN 0-374-22412-9

 *  Great art, for those who insist upon this rather philistine concept (as if un-great art were unworthy of even their most casual and ill-informed attention), makes us stand back and admire. It rushes upon us pell-mell like the work of Rubens or Tintoretto or Delacroix, or towers above us. There is of course another aesthetic: the art of a Vermeer or a Braque seeks not to amaze and appal but to invite the observer to come closer, to close with the painting, peer into it, become intimate with it. Such art reinforces human dignity.
 * Chapter V: Dimension (p. 105)

 * The element of heroic maleness had always been present in the concept of the artist as one who rides the winged horse above the clouds beyond the sight of lesser men, a concept seldom applied to those who worked with colours until the nineteenth century. When the inevitable question is asked, "Why are there no great women artists?" it is this dimension of art that is implied. The askers know little of art, but they know the seven wonders of the painting world.
 * Chapter V: Dimension (p. 105)

 * Great artists are products of their own time: they do not spring forth fully equipped from the head of Jove, but are formed by the circumstances acting upon them since birth. These circumstances include the ambiance created by the other, lesser artists of their own time, who have all done their part in creating the pressure that forces up an exceptional talent. Unjustly, but unavoidably, the very closeness of a great artist to his colleagues and contemporaries leads to their eclipse.
 * Chapter VII: The Disappearing Oeuvre (p. 134)

 * By 1627 Judith Leyster was famous enough to be mentioned in Ampzing's description of the city of Haarlem; by 1661 she had been so far forgotten that De Bie does not mention her in his Golden Cabinet. Her eclipse by Frans Hals may have begun in her own lifetime, as a consequence of her marriage to Molenaer perhaps, for Sir Luke Schaub acquired the painting now known as The Jolly Companions as a Hals in Haarlem in the seventeenth century. If Judith Leyster had not been in the habit of signing her work with the monogram JL attached to a star, a pun on the name her father had taken from his brewery, Leyster or Lodestar, her works might never have been reattributed to her: few paintings can boast of a provenance as clear as that of The Jolly Companions. As a result of the discovery that The Jolly Companions bore Leyster's monogram, the English firm which had sold the painting to Baron Schlichting in Paris as a Hals attempted to rescind their own purchase and get their money back from the dealer, Wertheimer, who had sold it to them for £4500 not only as a Hals but "one of the finest he ever painted." Sir John Millars agreed with Wertheimer about the authenticity and value of the painting. The special jury and the Lord Chief Justice never did get to hear the case, which was settled in court on 31st May 1893, with the plaintiffs agreeing to keep the painting for £3500 plus £500 costs. The gentlemen of the press made merry at the experts' expense, for all they had succeeded in doing was in destroying the value of the painting. Better, they opined, to have asked no questions. At no time did anyone throw his cap in the air and rejoice that another painter, capable of equalling Hals at his best, had been discovered.
 * Chapter VII: The Disappearing Oeuvre (p. 136)

Sex and Destiny: The Politics of Human Fertility (1984)

 * Olympic Marketing, ISBN 0-06091-250-2

 * The management of fertility is one of the most important functions of adulthood.
 * Chapter 2

 * The blind conviction that we have to do something about other people’s reproductive behaviour, and that we may have to do it whether they like it or not, derives from the assumption that the world belongs to us, who have so expertly depleted its resources, rather than to them, who have not.
 * Chapter 14

The Madwoman's Underclothes (1986)

 * Little, Brown and Company, ISBN 0-87113-308-3

 * While young fools of my generation produced terrifying symptoms by ingesting poisons of various synthetic kinds, I was taken to extraordinary realms by a bacillus carried from human excrement by a fly's foot. I swelled to the size of a mountain and shrank to the size of a pin, flew and sang and fell through exotic configurations, in the intervals between agonizing convulsions on the heavy earthenware vaso, whose lethal contents I had to dispose of in the fields when the fever subsided. When the burning and shivering stopped and I could see again only what was there, I stayed enthralled by clarity. There was nothing to me in biochemical mindbending or bullshit psychedelia that did not have the slimy scent of death about it. I hated being out of touch, isolated by the solipsism of delirium, unable to communicate or comprehend.
 * "Introduction," p. xxii

 * Kinkiness comes from low energy. It's the substitution of lechery for lust.
 * "A groupie's vision" (October 1969), p. 10

 * Once a paper admits any principle of censorship for survival, the we-don't-want-to-do-it-but-we-don't-want-to-lose-the-printer kind of censorship, it jeopardizes the integrity of its editorial principle. It's better to print and be damned, because you'll be damned anyway.
 * "The million-dollar Underground" (July 1969), p. 15

 * The treatment for jaded sensibilities is not to shatter them, after all.
 * "The Wet Dream Film Festival" (1971), p. 57

 * The pain of sexual frustration, of repressed tenderness, of denied curiosity, of isolation in the ego, of greed, suppressed rebellion, of hatred poisoning all love and generosity, permeates our sexuality. What we love we destroy.
 * "The Wet Dream Film Festival" (1971), p. 57

 * As Angelo discovered in Measure for Measure, nothing corrupts like virtue.
 * "A needle for your pornograph" (22 July 1971), p. 67

 * Next time round Hitler will be a machine.
 * "My Mailer problem" (September 1971), 83

 * Compulsory motherhood is not ennobling, although the friends of the foetus are at pains to point out that most women denied abortions end up loving their issue just the same. Whether they love them just the same as they would have if they had wanted them is of course unverifiable; most women are not so perverse and unjust as to punish their children for the crimes of society (their fathers), but the oppression of their circumstances is real notwithstanding. For the oppressors themselves to take credit for the women's magnanimity is sickeningly smug. The compelled mother loves her child as the caged bird sings. The song does not justify the cage nor the love the enforcement.
 * "Abortion ii" (21 May 1972), p. 115

 * Consensus politics means that you cannot afford to give the many-headed beast, the public, anything to vote against, for voting against is what gargantuan pseudodemocracy has to come down to.
 * "The Big Tease" (October 1972), p. 138

 * Most people die in improvised circumstances of harassment and confusion, whether in hospital or out of it.
 * "Not a time to die" (3 December 1972), p. 147

 * Doctors, lawyers and even accountants have always understood that they would have to stand firm, functioning as a solid group protecting its own expertise and hence its earning capacity, from the tendency of all merchants to buy cheap and sell dear. They made of their special knowledge a rare and valuable commodity, insisted on a mystique and protected each other by an immovable professional code. They were cynical enough to know that if they were once cast in the role of public martyrs, working harder and more generously than most other groups of workers, they would be left with nothing but masochism, exhaustion and despair to show for it. Like successful trade unions, who have always worked on the principle that the job is worth whatever you can force the employer to pay for it and not a penny more or less, they understood that nobody was going to pay them their fees out of gratitude, that if they left it to the man whose life they had saved to pay them what he thought fit, they would wind up with half an old penny.
 * "'Unhelpful to the workers' cause'" [undated], p. 175

 * The most unpardonable privilege that men enjoy is their magnanimity.
 * "Eternal war: Strindberg's view of sex" (3 June 1978), p. 207

 * In the nuclear family the child is confronted by only two adults contrasted by sex. The tendency towards polarization is unavoidable. The duplication of effort in the nuclear family is directly connected to the family's role as the principal unit of consumption in consumer society. Each household is destined to acquire a complete set of all the consumer durables considered necessary for the good life and per caput consumption is therefore maintained at its highest level. In sex, as in consumption, the nuclear family emphasizes possession and exclusivity at the expense of the kinds of emotional relationships that work for co-operation and solidarity.
 * "Women and power in Cuba" (1985), p. 271

Daddy, We Hardly Knew You (1989)

 * Ballantine, ISBN 0-449-90561-6

 * Libraries are reservoirs of strength, grace, and wit, reminders of order, calm, and continuity, lakes of mental energy, neither warm nor cold, light nor dark. The pleasure they give is steady, unorgastic, reliable, deep, and long-lasting. In any library in the world, I am at home, unselfconscious, still, and absorbed.
 * "Still in Melbourne, January 1987", as quoted in

 * Military mythology has to pretend that real men are in the majority; cowards can never be allowed to feel that they might be the normal ones and the heroes are insane.
 * "Anxiety"

The Change: Women, Aging and the Menopause (1991)

 * Ballantine Books, ISBN 0-44990-853-4

 * Women over fifty already form one of the largest groups in the population structure of the western world. As long as they like themselves, they will not be an oppressed minority. In order to like themselves they must reject trivialization by others of who and what they are. A grown woman should not have to masquerade as a girl in order to remain in the land of the living.
 * Introduction

The Whole Woman (1999)

 * Doubleday, ISBN 0385 60016X

 * This sequel to The Female Eunuch is the book I said I would never write.
 * "Recantation"

 * A woman's pleasure is not dependent upon the presence of a penis in the vagina; neither is a man's.
 * Abortion (p. 95)

 * Men have still not realized that letting women do so much of the work for so little reward makes a man in the house an expensive luxury rather than a necessity.
 * Work (p. 136)

 * The few men who do a hand's turn around the house expect gratitude and recognition, so sure are they that, though it is their dirt, it is not their job.
 * Housework (p. 141)

 * How you answer the question, whether individuals should be persuaded to live their whole lives in a state of chemical dependency, first upon contraceptive steroids and then on replacement therapy, depends upon your regard for the autonomy of the individual. If men would not live their lives this way, why should women?
 * Estrogen (p. 160)

 * We can put women on Prozac and they will think they are happy, even though they are not. Disturbed animals in the zoo are given Prozac too, which rather suggests that misery is a response to unbearable circumstances rather than constitutional.
 * Sorrow (p. 183)

 * If the next time our governments propose to make war on a helpless civilian population we were to uncover our grief and guilt instead of our anger, how much difference might we make?
 * Sorrow (p. 189)

 * In a sane society no woman would be left to struggle on her own with the huge transformation that is motherhood, when a single individual finds herself joined by an invisible umbilical cord to another person from whom she will never be separated, even by death.
 * Mothers (p. 209)

 * Regardless of the dutiful pushing of condoms in the girls' press, the exposure of baby vaginas and cervixes to the penis is more likely to result in pregnancy and infection than orgasm.
 * Girlpower (p. 332)

 * The most powerful entities on earth are not governments but the multi-national corporations that see women as their territory, indoctrinating them with their versions of beauty, health and hygiene, medicating them and cultivating their dependency in order to medicate them some more.
 * Liberation (p. 336)

Interviews

 * I'm actually passionately opposed to double beds, they're probably more responsible for bad sex than any other single piece of furniture.
 * Al Jazeera Head to Head (Transcript)

Quotes about Greer

 * In alphabetical order by author or source.

 * I am a different person since I read Germaine Greer's The Female Eunuch because she expressed what I felt with a great deal of humor. All my life I had experienced feelings of anger, impotence and injustice without knowing why. Suddenly I felt someone understood me and I could finally cope with my emotions. This marked not only my writing but my life.
 * Isabel Allende, Interviews with Latin American writers by Marie Lise Gazarian Gautier (1989)

 * Early white feminists, such as Kate Millett and Germaine Greer, made arguments that resounded throughout the western world, regarding their rage against white, male-dominated society and claimed their right to be angry. "Woman" had for too long been forced into quiet complacency. In the sixties, what was the purpose of the campus bra-burning, after all, if not to demonstrate their militant refusal to be continually sexualized by male culture. And yet, when feminists of color show their indignation and express intolerance of racism, some white feminists and intellectuals accuse us of being "too angry". Should we ask first what is "anger-appropriate" so as not to offend anyone by expressing our indignation and pain?
 * Ana Castillo Introduction to Massacre Of The Dreamers: Essays On Xicanisma (1994)

 * She has been in the business of shaking up a complacent establishment for nearly 40 years now and was employing the most elemental shock tactic of getting naked in public both long before and long after it ever crossed Madonna's mind. She has repeatedly written about her own experiences of lesbian sex, rape, abortion, infertility, failed marriage (she was married for three weeks to a construction worker in the 1960s) and menopause, thereby leaving herself open to claims that she shamelessly extrapolates from her own condition to the rest of womankind and calls it a theory … In part, her ability to remain so prominently in the public consciousness comes from an astute understanding and well-established symbiotic relationship with a media as eager to be shocked as she is to shock.
 * Stephanie Merritt "Danger mouth", The Observer (5 October 2003)

 * The Female Eunuch is a fitful, passionate, scattered text, not cohesive enough to qualify as a manifesto. It's all over the place, impulsive and fatally naive — which is to say it is the quintessential product of its time. So was Greer. … If Greer were a bit more honest and had a bit more perspective, she'd have a useful message to relay to young women about the perils of confusing sexual autonomy with the real but ephemeral ability to manipulate men. She could elucidate the difference between a sexual freedom that abuses body and soul and a sexual freedom that cherishes and respects them. But Greer has always spoken directly from the tangles of her personal experience, shamelessly extrapolating from her own condition to the rest of womankind and seemingly unaware of her presumption. … In the '70s, she admonished women who lacked her confidence, stylishness and libido for their timorousness. Today, feeling betrayed, she's become grim and hectoring, a feminist more cartoonishly man-hating than the ones she supposedly defied in the '70s, nattering on about body hair and bras.
 * Laura Miller "Brilliant Careers: Germaine Greer", profile at Salon (22 June 1999)]

 * Women who were housewives, who were pretty miserable … felt inspired by her book and their life changed. They didn't become megastars, but they became a librarian or something. I've heard women say again and again when the subject of Germaine comes up: 'Well, her book changed my life for the better.' And they'll be modest women living pretty ordinary lives, but better lives.
 * Susan Ryan as quoted in "Brilliant Careers: Germaine Greer" profile by Laura Miller at Salon (22 June 1999)

 * She enjoys what most women do not enjoy, and therefore it's valuable, which is going out and doing battle with men.
 * Gloria Steinem as quoted in "Brilliant Careers: Germaine Greer" profile  by Laura Miller at Salon (22 June 1999)

This is where the equality-seekers get it wrong, and liberationists like Greer get it right. Because how we feel about our bodies has an impact on whether we get paid the same. Of course we'll never get equal status if we're spending all our time and energy worrying about our thighs. Of course we'll never get equal pay if we ask for it wearing a baby-doll slip.
 * For a start, her assertion that we've forgotten about liberation and settled, instead, for the hope of equality feels like a revelation. "Liberation struggles are not about assimilation, but about asserting difference," she writes. "...What none of us noticed [in the 70s] was that the ideal of liberation was fading out with the word. We were settling for equality." [...] Now, the Women's Liberation spearheaded by the likes of Greer never told anyone that they shouldn't shave their legs. What it did do was say that if you want to shave, you should be aware that political pressures are behind that desire; just as political pressures force women to diet, and have breast implants, and use anti-ageing creams made from placenta, and generally feel hateful towards their physical selves. Greer's new book is an exciting reminder of how discrimination against women stops them, physically, from being 'the whole woman'. 'Your cellulite is you,' she says. It might sound obvious; but what a thrill to talk about owning our bodies, about being who we are.
 * Katharine Viner "Learning to love our cellulite", The Guardian (24 February 1999)
 * From a comment article on Greer's then recently published The Whole Woman.

Germaine Greer, who I believe helped to spring open that cage of femininity in her first book, The Female Eunuch, is now refusing to acknowledge the differences among women. In her new book, The Whole Woman, she tries to blend all women's lives into one shared experience of sorrow and unrequited love.
 * In this era the only feminism that makes sense to me is one that acknowledges the differences between women, and yet still encourages women to work together to forge a more equal society.
 * I have always been wary of feminists who seek to tell me that I must share a common personal experience with them that, more often than not, seems utterly alien to me. In Greer's eyes, if I am a woman I must not only be very sad, I must be obsessed with my body, and I must have really bad sex.
 * But why can't Greer acknowledge the confidence and freedom that many women now bring to their sexual lives? The liberation that Greer herself helped us to achieve she now denies.
 * Greer claims that this book was one she was reluctant to write. She has said that my book, The New Feminism, spurred her to such fury that she felt she had to respond. At the end of The Whole Woman she takes up an argument with "new feminism", which she equates with "lifestyle feminism". But that equation makes me wonder if she ever read my book.
 * Natasha Walter "Oh dear, Germaine", The Independent on Sunday (28 February 1999).

license: Creative Commons - Attribution Share-Alike - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/

title: Germaine Greer