Jesus, what the fuck are you?
Good name. Good, good name.
“Let’s go swimming in the ocean at night.”
“You know you could just have an aneurysm at any second, right?”
You’re the worst Garcia so far.
“He’s just being honest, man. Death’s inevitable.
Oh, what now? Show yourself.
“Did I scare you?”
You should warn people before you wave at them.
“I am as God made me, man.”
Partially. Which one are you?
“Shadow Puppet Garcia.”
I don’t get it.
Oooh, a doggie.
“My thump is his ears.”
“Bring me the child, only I can heal him.”
I am officially never sleeping again.
“I will walk with the Devil to free the prince of his earthly ailments.”
You cannot be a Garcia. You’re scary and terrible and the Twentieth century can be blamed on you.
“My name is Chuckles Garcia.”
Stop that. I hate this and it’s scaring me and I hate this.
“Don’t be so frightened, my friend.”
Oh, no. Not another one.
“You’ve nothing to fear from me. I’m Bass-Rankin Garcia.”
That’s very specific.
“And I’m here to buck you up and inject some bravery into you!”
“Sure! Forget about all those other Garcias and let’s have a long, detailed discussion about what it’s like to freeze to death.”
“Your skin gets so hot you take your clothes off!”