“No, no, no! You can’t fumigate the tree of life!” — Olaf
Anders: They’re our sworn enemy, Mike. I can’t believe you’re sleeping with one of them.
Mike: I prefer to think of it as going where you struck out.
Anders: (to customs agent, channeling Bragi) Come on, Shona. I’m sure between us we can sort this out. You and me. What d’you reckon? So why don’t you just give me what I want AND maybe you and I can slip away somewhere quiet, and I can give you what you need.
Shona: Sorry, did you just hit on me?
Anders: What?
Shona: Well it was hard to tell, ‘cause you were kind of mumbling. I’m not giving you anything, Mr. Johnson. You brought a biohazard into New Zealand and that biohazard has been seized and will be dealt with according to the law. Is there anything else I can help you with?
Anders: I’ll be back.
Mike: (summoned hurriedly to Ty’s house, and irritated to find Ty sunbathing and eating lunch in his driveway) Okay, clearly this is urgent.
Ty: (handing Mike a bowl) Taste this.
Mike: Why?
Ty: Taste it.
(Mike samples Ingrid’s thermonuclear curry.)
Mike: Oh … oh, Jesus! (He grabs Ty’s wineglass and drains it.)
Ty: It’s Ingrid’s special curry. Isn’t it the best thing you’ve ever tasted?
Mike: No!
Ty: It is to me, Mike! Because it’s the first food I’ve tasted – actually tasted – since I turned twenty-one.
Mike: I’m not fucking surprised! I can’t even breathe!
Shona: How can I help?
Anders: You know how you can help.
Shona: This is about the large stick you were inquiring about before?
Anders: For starters, it’s not a stick. It’s a priceless work of art. A traditional and very fragile Norse artifact.
Shona: On my computer it says “large stick.”
Mike: (upon first sight of a distinctly aged Olaf) Holy shit!
Anders: I swear he aged ten years in the car on the way here.
Olaf: And I’m not happy about it!
Mike: I bet, Grandpa!
Olaf: Don’t call me that. It makes me feel old.
Anders: So what’s up with Ty ? Why is he not here?
Mike: Well, what’s a curse for Olaf is a gift for Ty.
Anders: Oh, yeah. No more Mr. Freezy.
Mike: You got it.
Anders: Selfish prick. Well, you go have fun while Grandpa dies.
Mike: Anders!
Olaf: What did he say? Speak up, boy!
Dawn: Can I ask you a question?
Ty: Of course.
Dawn: Are you on drugs?
Ty: No, just happy to be alive. Aren’t you?
Dawn: On drugs?
Zeb: What if he dies?
Mike: Axl’s not going to die.
Zeb: It’s a virus, man! Viruses are going to get us all one day!
Mike: Will you shut up?
Zeb: But shouldn’t we be warning people, is what I’m saying?
Mike: Sorry — what?
Zeb: If Odin dies, the Johnsons all die. And in the process disaster is visited on the world. Isn’t that how it works?
Mike: Oh, that.
Stacey: Your friend Shona at the desk is a lovely woman by the way. Showed me around one day.
Anders: Hmmm. I knew she was a lesbian.
Stacey: No, all of those who work defending our borders are proud of what they do. And they love showing it off. And I’m naturally curious.
Anders: As in bi-curious?
Ty: (in Axl’s hospital room) I made a date with Dawn tonight. I supposed I should cancel.
Mike: Go.
Ty: What if something happens?
Mike: Then you’ll either go back to being Hod, or you’ll drop dead during the entrée.
Zeb: What if it’s a god virus? What if it’s some Asgard virus, the likes of which have never been seen before?
Michele: It’s a virus.
Zeb: Just thinking out loud.
Mike: Don’t!
(Stacey and Anders bring the stick to Olaf.)
Anders: Grandpa, it’s me, it’s me. We’ve got it.
Olaf: Gonorrhea?
Anders: Yggdrasil!
Olaf: You give gods a bad name.
Anders: Hey, I found the stick, didn’t I?
Olaf: Bragi, god of retrievers!
Zeb: Maybe it’s like Gandalf’s staff in The Lord of the Rings.
Mike: So?
Zeb: Try zapping him with it. (Mike considers how best to poke the ailing Axl with the tree limb.) Don’t be half-assed about it. Like you mean it.
Stacey: That stuff you said last night when you were old. About my life …
Olaf: Every word the honest truth.
Stacey: Thank you. (pauses) Wanna root?
Olaf: You have no idea! I feel like I haven’t had a root for years!
Dispensing Hope With Every Shooter 