A Winter's Tale

American Gods 3×1

Boss: And since this is a government thing, the feds are gonna do a background check, make sure you're not a spy or whatever. Pretty routine. Just, uh... hide the porn when they come to pay a visit.
Shadow Moon: Yeah, sure. Will do.

Laura Moon: When the fuck is he back?
Brigitte: I'm the Lord of the Dead's fuck buddy, not his appointment secretary.

Brigitte: Look, I know Samedi gave it his best shot. Potions, gris-gris, the whole nine. But, heh-heh, resurrecting a god isn't as easy as you'd think. Especially when no one believes in him anymore.
Laura Moon: What if you didn't have to bring him all the way back to life? I mean, what if he just had to be undead enough to perform a relatively simple task?

Brigitte: Good news is, Sweeney's pretty well preserved. If he didn't have god energy, he'd be a puddle of Irish stew by now.

Ms. World: Distract. Misdirect. Make them give a fuck about what we say is important. Your job is to provide and control the narrative.

Mr. Wednesday: We're gonna play Twenty Questions, and they're all yours... Fire away.
Shadow Moon: You really my dad?

Mr. Wednesday: I'm bound to these shores. If I were ever to leave, I would cease to exist. It's one of the penalties you pay for being a god who comes to America.

Mr. Wednesday: I do remember a time when man lived in harmony with nature. But now he's made technology his god. And what's it gotten him? Pesticides in his water, in his food, weapons that can destroy the earth a thousand times over. New Gods. Heh. They're just parasites. The only reason they're here is to make it easier for humanity to indulge in its most self-destructive impulses. Until the world ceases to exist.

Technical Boy: Wo-o-ow! Spectacular new look. And, and I get it. White guys are not on trend. Evolve or perish, am I right?
Ms. World: Sit.
Technical Boy: Great idea.

Ms. World: All it takes is for that old fossil to throw a lightning bolt into the power grid and you're all offline.

Mr. Wednesday: I've been exploring America's forgotten coast. You have no idea how many nude beaches there are down in the Redneck Riviera. They're thumping a helluva lot more than bibles, I can tell you that.

Shadow Moon: So, where are we headed?
Mr. Wednesday: We're off to see Whiskey Jack, a powerful Native American deity. We fell out a couple of hundred years ago, so I wanna see if the animosity endures.
Shadow Moon: Is there anyone you haven't managed to piss off yet?
Mr. Wednesday: ..... I'm thinking.

Shadow Moon: So, these New Gods, are they really even gods?
Mr. Wednesday: If they are, so is indoor plumbing. But they're dangerous and they wield a lot of power.

Mr. Wednesday: So I reckon you got a couple of questions left...
Shadow Moon: Who am I? Really?
Mr. Wednesday: ... You are the son of the All-Father, so walk this path with me and greatness shall be yours.

Queen Bilquis: I intend to stay neutral. I have seen war. It doesn't solve anything. War only brings misery and death.
Technical Boy: Well, I promise that our war is going to help a lot of people, or a few people a lot. Either way, you get to be one of them.
Queen Bilquis: What do you know about war? Have you ever endured its agony? Felt it cut through you, turning you into a thing to be covered with dust?

Shadow Moon: What happened to Betty?
Mr. Wednesday: This is Betty.

Wisakedjak: Follow the Enaemaehkiw.

Mr. Wednesday: Right on time!
Cordelia: Actually, I'm two hours late.
Mr. Wednesday: Oh, the universe is always on schedule. Besides, punctuality: virtue of the bored.

Cordelia: It took me five days to drive up here. I spent Christmas in a truck stop on account of you.
Mr. Wednesday: Ah, it's a made-up holiday anyway.

Mr. Wednesday: The things we do for ungrateful children...

Shadow Moon: I'm good. Do better when I make my own decisions.
Mr. Wednesday: Suit yourself. Man's free will is his most prized asset...

Shadow Moon: Still Betty, huh?
Mr. Wednesday: Same soul, different chassis.

Ann-Marie Hinzelmann: Oh my gosh. What are you doing out in this kind of weather without a proper coat on? I think it's two below zero out there.
Shadow Moon: I just got into town. I didn't... I didn't think it was gonna be this cold.
Ann-Marie Hinzelmann: Up here in the Great North Woods, we call this late summer. January is what we call cold.

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