Kaiju Preservation Society Quotes

I tried being a vegan for a while, but I couldn’t live without cheese.” “They have vegan cheese.” “No, they don’t. They have shredded orange and white sadness that mocks cheese and everything it stands for.

It was stupidly perfect how all my problems were suddenly solved with the strategic application of money.

That thing looks like H. P. Lovecraft’s panic attack.

So we’re the monster police, too?” I said to Tom. “Correct,” he replied. “The only real question is, who are the monsters?” “They ask that question in every monster movie, you know. It’s an actual trope.” “I know,” Tom said. “What does it say about us that it’s relevant every single time they ask it?

I thought you liked reading books." "I do, but if you only read books because you have to, it becomes much less fun.

What’s the RLH protocol?” I asked. “It means run like hell,

You have no idea how difficult it was for me to not say, ‘Welcome to Jurassic Park!’ to all of you just now.

Well, aren’t you a massive prick,” I said, quietly, under the roar of the helicopter. “What?” Sanders asked. “I said, ‘That’s a nifty trick.

It’s okay if we turned entire cities full of people into nuclear ash, but the idea of monsters having a nibble afterward was just too much.

It’s the twenty-first century; no one goes by Betsy anymore,” Tom said. “But even if they did, there’s usually context. If you’re saying, ‘Betsy has the results from the lab,’ it’s probably the human. If it’s ‘Betsy just got pissed off and burned down twenty thousand acres of jungle,’ it’s probably the kaiju.

It's not the trees, you dense argumentative spoon

The last Gold Team geologist decided to retire after we basically had to reattach a limb. For a second time.” “Oh.” “Well, that’s not completely accurate. It wasn’t the same limb twice. They were different limbs.

You seem tense,” Kahurangi said to them. “Of course I’m tense,” Niamh snapped back. “We have a stupid plan.” “You’re just saying this because it’s my plan.” “I’m not just saying it because it’s your plan, and also, yes.

They have vegan cheese." "No, they don't. They have shredded orange and white sadness that mocks cheese and everything it stands for.

It was a very cozy meeting. In addition to my role as visitor liaison, I was also, once again, supervising snacks.

Yes, that. You’re feeling cognitive dissonance, Jamie. Two contradictory-yet-entirely-valid-within-their-contexts thoughts about the same subject. And humans hate that shit. We hate it so much. The worst answer for us for anything is, ‘It depends.

Go ahead and eat all you want, but avoid excessively fatty foods, since one of these is going to tell your body to purge fats in a way that absolutely challenges normal sphincter control.” “That’s . . . not great.” “It’s a mess. Seriously, don’t even think about trying to fart for the next eighteen hours. It’s not a fart. You will regret it.

Never forget to factor in the Oort cloud,

And so, for coolness under pressure, for giving the rest of the away team the time it needed to get Ion safely back to the helicopter, and for having the absolute nerve to ignore Riddu Tagaq, I am proud and happy to award Jamie Gray the Ancient and Sacred Order of Holy Shit Jamie Just Shot That Parasite Straight in the Mouth with a Canister Launcher.

KPS is not, and I say this with absolutely no slight intended, a brooding symphony of a novel. It’s a pop song. It’s meant to be light and catchy, with three minutes of hooks and choruses for you to sing along with, and then you’re done and you go on with your day, hopefully with a smile on your face. I had fun writing this, and I needed to have fun writing this. We all need a pop song from time to time, particularly after a stretch of darkness.

I was just thinking that Edward’s Tumescent Cloaca would have been an excellent band name.” “Emo, obviously,” Kahurangi said. “Their first album glistened with promise, but their follow-up was a little flaccid.” “Their third album was really shitty.” “To be fair, the competition was stiff that year.” “I just thought that they should have showed more spunk.

Angrily consume your bacon on the toilet, is my advice.

There was no need to import my crippling diet cola addiction to a brand-new world, and besides, the fountain was Pepsi products anyway. New planet, new life.

Human brains are bullshit.

Also, you may find the color blue giving you a migraine for the next couple of days." "Blue." "Yeah. We don't know why it happens, we just know it does. When it does, just look at something not blue for a while." "You know the sky is blue, right?" "Yes. Stay indoors. Don't look up.

Firebomb the place,” Laertes said, from the room he and Brent shared, where he was playing a video game. “No one’s firebombing anything,” Brent yelled back to Laertes. “Yet,” Laertes replied. “You can’t firebomb your way out of every problem,” Brent said. “You can’t,” Laertes called back.

There is a certain type of person who feels like they must be armed at every moment of the day or else the world will come for them in some way. Back home, this is very much not a good way to live.

Acknowledged, Chopper Two. Recommend RLH protocol.” “Acknowledged, base. Initiating RLH protocol.” Satie switched off. He glanced at Kahurangi. “You can put those glasses away now.” “What’s the RLH protocol?” I asked. “It means run like hell,” Satie said, turning the helicopter.

in one in about two hundred fifty injections, the recipient feels the urge for, let's just say, intense and homicidal violence. Like, 'murder everyone in the building and build a pyre with their skulls' level of violence." "I can understand that," I assured her. "No, you can't," she assured me back. "Fortunately, there's a direct and accompanying side effect of extreme lassitude, which keeps most people from acting on the urge." "So, like, 'I want to kill you but that would mean leaving the couch." "Exactly," Dr. Lee said. "We call it murder stoner syndrome.

our revenue. Our delivery people— “Deliverators.” I shifted in the beanbag. “What?” “Deliverators. That’s what we’re calling them now. Clever right? I thought up the term.” “I thought Neal Stephenson did.” “Who?” “He’s a writer. He wrote Snow Crash.” “And that’s, what, a Frozen sequel?

Describe the smell to me.” “Are you serious right now?” “Yes, I want to know.” “It’s like a family of raccoons hotboxed themselves to death in a dumpster, and someone distilled their fermented remains.” “Huh,” Satie said. “I usually just say it smells like Malört, but I like your version, too.

We've learned that certain foods help counteract the murderous urge. If it happens to you and you actu. ally have enough energy to stand up and move around, fry up some bacon or eat a pint of ice cream, or have a couple of slices of bread with butter." "So, fatty foods." "Basically." “You remember the part where you told me to avoid fatty foods, right?" "I do." "So, just to be clear, the choices here are 'homicidal maniac or 'shit tornado."" "I wouldn't put it that way, and yes. But the chances are pretty good you won't experience either side effect, much less both at the same time." "And if I do?" "Angrily consume your bacon on the toilet, is my advice." Dr. Lee lifted the first syringe. "Ready?

They look like terrain, until they don’t.” Tom pointed to one of them. “That’s Kevin.” “Really?” Niamh said. “Fucking Kevin?

That’s nuts,” Niamh said. “That’s evolution,

So we’re the monster police, too,” I said to Tom. “Correct,” he replied. “The only real question is, who are the monsters?

I could be happy never talking about tiny skin mites ever again,” I said. “They come out when you sleep, you know.” “I do now, thanks for that.

I lift things.

No one anticipates surprises,” Kahurangi said. “That’s what makes them surprises.

So, like, ‘I want to kill you but that would mean leaving the couch.’” “Exactly,” Dr. Lee said. “We call it murder stoner syndrome.

You’re fucking with me, aren’t you,” I said. “Sure, let’s go with that,” Dr. Lee said.

They have vegan cheese.” “No, they don’t. They have shredded orange and white sadness that mocks cheese and everything it stands for.

no one ever needs a cat these days. That’s not why we have cats. We have cats because they amuse us and because otherwise our clothes would lack the texture only cat hair can provide.

The doors opened. We shuffled out, stepped through the doorway onto the gangplank, and were immediately swarmed by apparently all the small flying insects that ever existed in the history of the universe.

We all looked. “Mate, those look like fossilized turds,” Kahurangi said. “That’s why we call them poopfruit, yes,” Tom said. “You need to talk to your marketing people,” I suggested. “They taste better than they look.” “They would have to, wouldn’t they?

So, the kaiju have far too much volume, their muscles would snap, their lungs couldn’t give them enough oxygen, they couldn’t feed themselves enough energy, their nervous systems would run too slowly to move them around, their bones would tear out of their bodies, and by all known physical laws, they would lie groaning in their own pile of meat until they died.

...if you're only reading books because you have to, it becomes much less fun.

I mean, I don't know that I was actually planning to possibly die tonight in order to protect a kaiju," Kahurangi said. "But I might be willing to possibly die to save a kaiju and ten thousand Canadians." "Now we know what motivates you," I said. "Ten thousand Canadians.

As I clicked in, I saw Kevin pitch the small park in the direction of the other kaiju, which meant in our direction as well. The massive clod flew apart, and one sizable chunk sailed right toward us. That has trees in it, my brain said.

I did not throw up," Kahurangi said, at dinner that night, as he recounted the day's events to Aparna and Niamh. He and I had just gotten out of an hours-long meeting with Brynn MacDonald, her Blue Team counterpart, Jeneba Danso, Tom Stevens, and the leads of the biology and physics labs, going over everything from our helicopter ride. Martin Satie had been excused to tend to his helicopter. Apparently, he would be going out again soon. "No, you just got enough radiation passing through your body to spontaneously turn into a tumor," Niamh said. "I'm pretty sure it doesn't work like that," Kahurangi replied. "That's just what a person who has spontaneously turned into a tumor would say." Kahurangi turned to Aparna. "You're the biologist here. Help me." "I'm not saying you are a sentient tumor," Aparna said. "But I would have to run some tests to be sure." Kahurangi pointed at me. «Jamie was in the same helicopter! Where are the tumor accusations there?" “I am definitely mostly tumor at this point," I admitted. "I thought we were friends," Kahurangi said, narrowing his eyes at me. "Tumors have no friends," I replied.

Our chief biologist has had five tours of duty here at Base Tanaka and in his tenure has discovered, identified, and classified hundreds of the species of this planet. But as we learned today, in all that time, the one thing he has not discovered is that any of the creatures he's identified and named will be happy to eat him!" Laughs all around, and why not. Ardeleanu wasn't dead; it's easy to make jokes when you live. “To commemorate his escape from the literal jaws of death, and to remind him to be more careful the next time, I am proud to this evening induct Ion into the Ancient and Sacred Order of the Tasty Snack Cake.

at least a couple of these are going to make you feel ravenously hungry. Go ahead and eat all you want, but avoid excessively fatty foods, since one of these is going to tell your body to purge fats in a way that absolutely challenges normal sphincter control.” “That’s … not great.” “It’s a mess. Seriously, don’t even think about trying to fart for the next eighteen hours. It’s not a fart. You will regret it.

Whoever had my room last left a big pile of poopfruit on my desk," Niamh yelled, from their room. "Seriously, what the actual fuck?

among us

our revenue. Our delivery people— “Deliverators.” I shifted in the beanbag. “What?” “Deliverators. That’s what we’re calling them now. Clever right? I thought up the term.” “I thought Neal Stephenson did.” “Who?” “He’s a writer. He wrote Snow Crash.” “And that’s, what, a Frozen sequel?

Tom grinned through his mask; I saw it through the eye crinkles

Not longer,” I said. “Just, like I’ve always been here.

—I waved wildly to encompass all of the philistine Lower East Side, and possibly, all five boroughs of New York City

Total Eclipse of the Heart

I interned one summer in Washington, D.C., and didn’t die,” I said.

There is a certain type of person who feels like they must be armed at every moment of the day or else the world will come for them in some way.

My brain said. Just walk away. [...] But even as my brain was saying that, my body was turning back, becaus like puppies we are enculturated to turn when our name is called.

Which one of you tased Dave?” The one directly in front of us asked. “That was me,” Niamh said. “That was mean. He’s new. Barely above an intern.

The only real question is, who are the monsters?” “They ask that question in every monster movie, you know. It’s an actual trope.” “I know,” Tom said. “What does it say about us that it’s relevant every single time they ask it?

No, they don’t. They have shredded orange and white sadness that mocks cheese and everything it stands for.

You should let our IT people know, they’ll add them to the community Plex server.

When you made your first offer, I was willing to let you pass it off as a joke,” Satie said. “You’re not the first billionaire I’ve ferried around. I know how you all like to wave around your money dick to see who might be willing to suck on it. If you had let it go when I gave you the opportunity, I was willing to ignore it. But you had to push it. You wanted to see how much it would cost for me to compromise the safety of everyone on this aircraft, me included, to assert your dominance. So, now here is my answer, Mr. Sanders. I will let you out for free. And there is no amount of money, on this planet or the other, that you or anyone else could pay me to let you back in.

You're fucking with me, aren't you," I said. "Sure, let's go with that," Dr. Lee said.

It’s like the foreign legion for nerds,

How do you handle heat and humidity?” “I interned one summer in Washington, D.C., and didn’t die,” I said.

will be making lots of your time brewing avoidance pheromone to keep them out, and you”—they pointed to me this time—“will be spending lots of time taking helicopter rides to spray it into their faces.

So, fatty foods.” “Basically.” “You remember the part where you told me to avoid fatty foods, right?” “I do.” “So, just to be clear, the choices here are ‘homicidal maniac’ or ‘shit tornado.’” “I wouldn’t put it that way, and yes. But the chances are pretty good you won’t experience either side effect, much less both at the same time.” “And if I do?” “Angrily consume your bacon on the toilet, is my advice.” Dr. Lee lifted the first syringe. “Ready?

I’m pretty sure mercenaries live in double-wides in the woods of North Carolina,” Tom said

It’s like homeopathic physics,

Sorry, inside joke,” the dude said. “You know ‘deliverator’ is from Snow Crash, right? The Neal Stephenson book? Anyway, the protagonist of the book is a delivery guy who has samurai swords. I forget the hero’s name.

There was no need to import my crippling diet cola addiction to a brand-new world, and besides, the fountain was Pepsi products anyway.

Any dietary restrictions?” “I tried being a vegan for a while, but I couldn’t live without cheese.” “They have vegan cheese.” “No, they don’t. They have shredded orange and white sadness that mocks cheese and everything it stands for.

Just because you’re vaccinated doesn’t mean other people are or that you can’t still transmit to the uninoculated, so don’t be an asshole.