Loki was never Odin’s son.
Loki was never Laufey’s son.
But Loki has and always will be Frigga’s son.
[at my own wedding] can I stay in the car
WHAT AM I DOING IN HERE, TENNISON? QUITE SIMPLE, REALLY. I OWN THIS DRAWER, LIKE I OWN THIS COMPANY, AND I WILL OCCUPY WHATEVER PORTION OF THE COMPANY I FEEL LIKE, WHENEVER I FEEL LIKE, AND UNLESS YOU CAN FIND ‘EXPLAINING MY ACTIONS TO SLACKJAWED, BUNGLING ACCOUNT EXECUTIVES’ SOMEWHERE ON MY C.V. I SUGGEST YOU SIT DOWN AT THAT DESK I GRACIOUSLY ALLOW YOU TO HAVE AND STOP WASTING MY TIME WITH YOUR BABBLE. IF I WANTED TO BE DISAPPOINTED BY YOUR SEMI-COHERENT RAMBLING I’D CALL A SALES MEETING.
NOW WHERE ARE THOSE REPORTS I ASKED FOR?
STOP LOOKING AROUND, YOU TIT. I’M SITTING ON THEM. HOW DID YOU GET THIS JOB? AM I YOUR FATHER? DO YOU HAVE BLACKMAIL PHOTOS OF ME? CAN YOU EVEN READ, TENNISON?
I’M GOING TO GO DOWN TO 14 AND SLEEP IN THE 11”X17” PAPER TRAY IN THE COPY ROOM. I’LL BE BACK AT 3 AND I EXPECT YOU’LL HAVE THE SECOND QUARTER PROJECTIONS COMPLETED AND FAXED OVER TO MARTY.
DAD, IS EVERYTHING THE LIGHT TOUCHES OUR KINGDOM?
WHAT ARE YOU, AN IDIOT? THE LIGHT IS THE SUN, BOBBY. IT TOUCHES A LOT OF SHIT. I MAKE TWENTY GRAND A YEAR. OUR ‘KINGDOM’ IS 600 SQUARE FEET WITH A BROKEN AIR CONDITIONER AND YOUR MOM RULES IT, NOT ME OR YOU.
"I’M LEAVING YOU." THAT’S ALL HE SAID.
AND THAT GOT ME TO THINKING, ONCE I STOPPED CRYING. ONCE HE WAS GONE.
ABOUT MANY THINGS, REALLY, BUT MOSTLY ABOUT HOW FEW WORDS IT TAKES TO SAY SOMETHING TRULY HORRIBLE. YOU CAN DO IT IN TWO BUT THERE’S A LOT OF ROOM FOR MISCOMMUNICATION OR MISUNDERSTANDING. “I’M LEAVING” IS NOT EXACTLY “I’M LEAVING YOU” IF YOU SEE WHAT I’M SAYING. THREE WORDS, THOUGH … YOU CAN DESTROY A PERSON’S SENSE OF PEACE WITH NO MORE THAN THREE WORDS. JUST THINK ABOUT IT. SOME OF THE WORST PHRASES IN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE ONLY REQUIRE THREE WORDS.
"YOU HAVE CANCER."
"YOUR MOTHER DIED."
"FEATURING 2 CHAINZ."
SUCH HORRORS, DELIVERED WITH SUCH BREVITY.
CAN I GET SOME MORE REISLING? I’M NOT READY TO GO HOME.
Nowadays the princesses all know kung fu, and yet they’re still the same princesses. They’re still love interests, still the one girl in a team of five boys, and they’re all kind of the same. They march on screen, punch someone to show how they don’t take no shit, throw around a couple of one-liners or forcibly kiss someone because getting consent is for wimps, and then with ladylike discretion they back out of the narrative’s way.
On the posters they’re posed way in the back of the shot behind the men, in the trailers they may pout or smile or kick things, but they remain silent. Their strength lets them, briefly, dominate bystanders but never dominate the plot. It’s an anodyne, a sop, a Trojan Horse - it’s there to distract and confuse you, so you forget to ask for more."