Home Is Where The Hate Is



As the Monarch and Dr. Mrs. the Monarch settle into their new home and a new, no-more-arching-Dr.-Venture-anymore life, Dr. Venture receives an unorthodox introduction to his new Guild-assigned nemesis, which quickly lands him in the center of the deadly web that is the suburban supervillain community.

Dr. Girlfriend: What the hell are you doing?!
The Monarch: I’m pretending I’m Farrah Fawcett making her big comeback. What do you think I’m doing? I’m not gonna sleep in the bed you pleasured Phantom Limb in. I’m burning the bed and—what are these, Little League trophies, and all these self-help books?
Dr. Girlfriend: Well, sell them! Do you have to burn ’em, it’s insane!
The Monarch: You know what’s insane? The fact that you slept with a guy who read The Secret You want the Secret? Your ex-boyfriend’s pathetic. (whispers) Shh, don’t tell anyone. Secret.

The Monarch: I’ll be sure to put that on my ‘to don’t’ list.

Dean Venture: Hank, if a big man walks out of the burning cloud, do not be afraid. That’s Jesus!
Sgt. Hatred: Attention Dr. Thadeus S. Venture! This is Sargent Hatred your new arch enemy, prepare to meet your doom!

Sgt. Hatred: I just got to tell you what an honor it is to be working with the legend himself, thee Dr. Venture! The guy that put pro into protaganist.
Dr. Venture: Oh. Hehe. Well thank you and uh… sorry again about my man, Brock.
Sgt. Hatred: No-no. My bad. I shouldn’t have come blowin’ in here like the big bad wolf. When those new marching orders came down from the guild brass, I just thought ‘Hatred, why don’t you swing the old welcome tank to the Venture compound and give those kids a basket of Howdy Do.’
Dr. Venture: Is ‘Howdy Do’ fruit?
Sgt. Hatred: Okra! Me and the Mrs. grow the hell out of it. Personally I can’t stand the stuff…
Dr. Venture: So you’re not here to try to kill me then?
Sgt. Hatred: Not yet anyway. Haha!

Sgt. Hatred: Speaking of green earth! What do you have out there? Kentucky Blue Grass? God, that is lush!
Brock Samson: No. That’s my own special blend of Blue Ridge and Creeping Red.
Sgt. Hatred: I’m gonna say it again! Lush!

Sgt. Hatred: Hate to live, don’t live to hate. That’s my motto.

#21: Could you sign this, boss? It’s for 24, he got knifed by the Moppets.
The Monarch: Which one is 24 again?
#21: What?! You’re kidding, right? Let me give a hint: you know how every time you talk to me, there’s usually another guy next to me. That’s 24.
The Monarch: Right, right, right, the one that sounds like Ray Romano. I like him.

Sgt. Hatred: Hey! I’m just trying to get you the best bang for your arching buck here!

[Sgt. Hatred leaves the Venture Compound after introducing himself and says goodbye by pulling a gun and shooting Dr. Venture.]
Brock: (advancing on Hatred) Whoa! Hey!
Sgt. Hatred: Rubber bullets, rubber bullets! Just keepin’ it lively! It’s not all charts and schedules and…
[Hatred and Brock look down to see Dr. Venture curled up and bleeding profusely.]
Sgt. Hatred: Man, he’s a delicate one, isn’t he? They don’t usually break the skin like that. (into his comlink) Malice Troop!
Malice Troop: Sir?
Sgt. Hatred: Yeah, we got a bleeder here. Eighty-six the non-lethal. We’re goin’ full Nerf on this one!

Dr. Venture: I don’t even know why were doing this.
Brock Samson: We kinda have to, its just one of those things that comes with this life you chose.
Dr. Venture: Chose my keester! My dad dumped this life in my lap like a cup of scolding hot responsibility.

The Monarch: Look at him! He’s eating all the cocktail shrimp! I hate guys who do that!

#24: Look, no offense. But, I am in no mood to play babysitter to the Ritalin twins tonight, ok? My life sucks quite already, thank you. I have big boy problems.
Dean Venture: Girls?
#24: I wish!
Hank Venture:Hemorrhoids?

(Sergeant Hatred’s guests are playing a party game where they have to guess the celebrity name written on a tag on their back, based on comments from other guests.)
Female Supervillian: You are married to a powerful man…
Dr. Girlfriend: Uh… Mrs. Hulk Hogan?
Female Supervillian: No. Let’s see… you are famous for your pink dresses and pillbox hats…
Dr. Girlfriend: Uh… me?
(later)
Tuxedo-wearing Supervillian: I loved you in “Fire Walk With Me,” but most know your work from…
Brock: (obviously very bored) Yeah, fine, whatever. (Pulls off his own tag and reads it to the room) I’m Harry Dean Stanton!
(everyone checks their tags)
Dr. Girlfriend: Huh? Who the heck is…. Jack-a-leen Oh-nass-is?

(The Monarch during Sergeant Hatred’s party game)
The Monarch: You’re a brainless failure and live entirely off your father’s name and fortune!
Dr. Venture: I’m George Bush?
The Monarch: Hardly! I’ve never never hated anyone as much as you!
Dr. Venture: Oh wait wait. Hitler? Did he have a famous father?
The Monarch: Worse! Washup! You should just admit that you will never amount to anything and drink, poison!
Dr. Venture: Oh is it… uh… Socrates son?
(After Brock ends the game)
Dr. Venture: Ahh of course, Mariah Carey. So close. Seriously, I would have gotten that.

#21: Hey! How ya feelin’?
#24: Like a dwarf stuck a knife in me. How do you think I feel? Didja bring my…. magazines…?
#21: No, but I brought something way better! I got somebody here who came to cheer you up!
#24: (excited) He remembered??
(Dean, wearing a ridiculous Patch Adams costume, enters the room)
Dean Venture: Hey there, glum chum!
#21: (struggling not to laugh) Well, I’ll leave you two to catch up!
Dean Venture: Good idea! This area is officially quarantined. Because smiles are contagious!
#24: (tersely, to #21) I HATE you…

Brock Samson: I really want to see those guy shoot that crossbow, that thing is huge!

[Everyone is playing Charades. Dr. Venture flaps his arms wildly like a chicken.]
Dr. Girlfriend: Um…”Birdman of Alcatraz!”
The Monarch: “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest!”
Dr. Girlfriend: Um…let’s see, bird…
The Monarch: We know he’s a bird! He’s been doing the same thing for five fucking minutes! Okay, my God! Go to the next word! Give me a “sounds like!” YOU’RE KILLING ME!

The Monarch: Hatred! Mark my words…
Sgt. Hatred: Blah, blah, blah… were all super villains here, Monarch. We’ve heard that speech a hundred times you don’t get the point.

The Monarch: Are you smoking?
Dr. Girlfriend: Who?
The Monarch: You!
Dr. Girlfriend: Why?
The Monarch: What-why? Are you smoking?
Dr. Girlfriend: Maybe…
The Monarch: What?! When did you start smoking?
Dr. Girlfriend: 198-9ish?
The Monarch: So you have been lying! It all makes sense, the filled ash trays, the burning pine scented hair sprays…
Sgt. Hatred: I guess I’ll say it, her three pack a day voice.

Sgt. Hatred: I know the just the thing tp help you relax… take off your clothes.

#21: Shhh!
#24: What is that? Why do I know that sound?
Dean Venture: Is it… Pac Man?
Hank Venture: No! Pac Man was weee-wut-wut-wut.
#21: That’s when he died. When you’re eating pellets is more like gnop-gnop-gnop…
#24: Oh wait! Its a Monarch radar troop tracker, of coarse. Duh!

Sgt. Hatred: Look you scrawny little turd, I was a professional villain while you were trading Garbage Pail Kids!

Sgt. Hatred: Venture is my arch enemy and I am gonna cook him breakfast in bed!

Dr. Venture: I know its impressive. Look’s like Rusty has inherited more than his father’s startling intellect.

#21: The shrimp have knives!

#21: Uh, dude! You guys didn’t have to take off your clothes too.
Hank Venture: Well, I saw you guys do it and I thought… water slide! Part of my DNA, I think.

24: I think what I really wanted to be was a cabinet maker.
Dean Venture: I say follow your dreams, even if they’re about a giant spider with your fathers head and he keeps stealing your penis.