Game StartEdit

Tycho: The die has been cast.

Wagering Enthusiast's TimepieceEdit

Tycho: Well this is embarrassing. I generally walk around with large bricks of money with which to buy into backroom card games, but I'm a little light this evening. Anyway, I think this should even it up.



"Call My Bet!"Edit

  • {threatening} Face down in front of me is the card beast of your worst poker nightmare. {suddenly awkward} Just something to consider.
  • You've got a serious decision to make here.
  • I'm going to be 100% honest with you - you should call me.
  • It's important for you to know up front that I've got your ass kicked preemptively.

"Call His Bet!"Edit

  • Tycho: You must call this hobo.
    Strong Bad: If by "hobo", you mean "lovable scamp" and not "crazy beardo eating canned dog food by oildrum firelight" then yes, call me.
    Max: I love hobos!
    Heavy: (sadly) My uncle is hobo.
    (note: only one of the other players responds at a time)
  • Call, lest you be called a pansy.
  • Oh no he di'n't!
  • He's clearly a filthy liar. Call it.
  • Best to not be pushed around.


  • What would Gabe do...? No, best leave the pants on.
  • Can't I just tap one of these and be done with it?
  • Is this hand worth my coin?
  • I don't know...
  • Hmm...
  • Well...
  • Ehh...
  • So, wanna party up, big boys?
  • Well, you're clearly a lying sack of dog shit, right?
  • Money does have the ability to cloud one's judgement...
  • Bet? Check? I just don't KNOW!
  • My general philosophy on menage a trois doesn't really apply here.



  • Betting.
  • I bet.
  • I'm betting
  • I'll bet.
  • I'll stoke some action.
  • I'll open it up.
  • No need to get crazy, despite what Seal might say.

(big bet)Edit

  • I've got five on it. And by five I mean a modest sum.
  • These chips are made for betting, and that's just what they'll do.
  • It's on like.... man, there's gotta be a video game reference for this.
  • (sounding serious) Alright, this bet isn't fucking around. It refuses to fuck around. Fucking around is simply not in its nature.
  • These cards is shit hot, and I will bet accordingly.
  • (shouting) THIS BET IS REAL!
  • I apologize for dropping dollars as though they were hot.

(Player has to go all in to call)Edit

  • I'm putting you all-in.
  • How much you have left? Actually, don't even bother.



  • Raise.
  • I'm raising.
  • Yeah, I'll raise.
  • OK, I raise.
  • Raising it up.

(small raise)Edit

  • I'm raising a few more pogs.
  • I'm going to throw a little more on that.
  • That bet needs a little company. I raise.
  • Hell, I'll raise.

(big raise)Edit

  • Raise. That's no moon, muthafuckas.
  • Time to make a fortitude check.
  • Your party enters the Chamber of Futility.
  • This raise should indicate the strength of my cards. Which is to say, very strong.


  • I'll reraise.
  • You raise? I am also capable of this action. Where is your God now?
  • Sometimes, in order to deal with an aggressive man, one must respond with unspeakable aggression. In this instance, I actually just re-raise.
  • I'm gon' reraise yo' FACE.

Player ChecksEdit

  • Checking is lame. Unless you are Czech. Which I would find amusing.
  • Easy there, don't wanna hurt yourself.
  • (sarcastically) Check? Wow, what a move.



  • Check City, U.S.A.
  • Chkdsk.
  • I'm good.
  • Check.
  • Checking.
  • Checking this.
  • I'll check.
  • I check.
  • OK, I check.

(last to check)Edit

  • (sarcastically cheerful) Oh! Let's see the next card! (looks at the cards angrily)
  • Let's do it.
  • I'll check as well, Gentlemen.



  • Calling.
  • Call.
  • I call.
  • I'll call.
  • I'll call that.
  • I'm calling.

(in the first round)Edit

  • I'll play.
  • Let's do this.
  • I'm not going anywhere.

(calling small bet)Edit

  • Aw heyo yeah.
  • A pittance.
  • Ha, I'll call your microwager.
  • No big deal.
  • Shit, son, I got that.
  • Bring it, sister.

(calling big bet)Edit

  • Fuck me running! I'll call.
  • Ooh, big action.

(before the hole cards are revealed)Edit

  • I might have the best cards, you know. Wait with bated breath, brigand!
  • Alright, let's see these.

Player CallsEdit

  • The gauntlet hath been thrown the fuck down.

Can't Afford BlindEdit

  • This is my last stand.
  • Alright, I bet the rest of my stack.
  • This might be my last hand.
  • I don't have many friends to bring to the party.

All InEdit

  • I'm all in.
  • Yeah, I'm all in.
  • Daddy goes all in.
  • I'm going all in!
  • All in.
  • I bet the full amount.
  • I'm balls in!
  • Check this shit out.
  • I am going to fully exercise the No Limit portion of this game's rule-set.
  • You might be thinking to yourself, "This Brahe fellow certainly has a lot of chips. I sure hope he doesn't bet them all." Well, these cards have wrought your worse nightmare.

All In (Different Player)Edit

  • Effing A.
  • Yowsa!
  • Damn, son!
  • Whoa!


  • (Rolls D-20) Fuck yeah! (Then he either makes a big bet, raises, or goes all in)

Player FoldsEdit

  • Hmph.
  • I wouldn't classify folding as "balla" behavior.
  • Folding like origami, huh?
  • Interesting.
  • Pacifism is sometimes a viable option.



  • I fold.
  • Fold.
  • I'll fold.
  • I'm out.
  • Ha, no way.
  • I don't think so.
  • I'm folding these.
  • Nope.
  • Foldsville.
  • Well, these are awful.
  • Tycho: See, cards like these are why I prefer Magic.
    Strong Bad: Not because of your crippling social anxieties? Because, you know, you're a huge dork.
  • I don't think I'll be playing these.
  • Ugh, ghastly.
  • Abominable.
  • Grim.
  • I wouldn't play these with your chips.
  • Vile.
  • I'm Audi 5000.

(during a run of bad cards)Edit

  • This is like when you draw like nine mana in a fuckin' row. Anybody?
  • Fuck this shit.
  • I'm not sure what I did to deserve these cards… Perhaps calling that lady a megatwat yesterday has had some karmic impact.
  • Ah, and I was worried I was going to have a hand I could play.
  • You guys keep playing cards, and I'll keep thinking about playing cards.

(at the flop)Edit

  • As shit flops go, that one is conclusively shit.
  • That flop has saved me some money. With which I will use to pay a sure-handed man to tear my hair out in bloody clumps.
  • Tycho: Do you know the etymology of the word "flop"?
    Max: Nope!
    Tycho: In the early 1600's it was when the king would take a shit on a peasant. I fold.
  • Are you familiar with peripeteia? Well, it has to do with getting fucked by a reversal of fortune. Similar to this flop. I fold.
  • Bleuuugh.
  • Who knew cards were capable of sodomy?

(at the river)Edit

  • Think of how boring this game would be if I didn't know I was going to get fucked til the END.
  • Well, I've come this far. It's time to come up painfully short.
  • Well, I've regretted every moment of this. I'm out.

(intimidated out of hand)Edit

  • (Rolls D-20) Bleech... (folds, using either one of the general fold quotes or one of the "intimidated out of hand" fold quotes)
  • Take it, damn you! Just take it!
  • I'm going to pass on this little gang bang you all have going on.
  • I don't think this will end well for me.
  • I didn't sign up for a 10 man dungeon. I'm out.
  • Ouch! I fold.
  • Oh, the big man thinks he can push me off the pot, huh? Well, he FUCKING CAN.
  • Oof, daddy can't afford that.
  • Nope, that's too much.
  • Eh, take it, ya bastard.
  • You can have it.
  • That money is poxed, you know. You're going to get green spots all over your dick. So, you know, enjoy your dick spots.

Large PotEdit

  • Think about all the games, occult artifacts, and trips to the petting zoo that could be bought with that pot.
  • Tycho: An ostentacious sum.
    Max: Don't say "ostentacious."
  • Pot like that could buy a man a little giraffe time...

Showdown Card Reveal (Positive)Edit

  • Shit!
  • Shit hot!
  • Yeah!

Showdown Card Reveal (Negative)Edit

  • Jesus jumped up Christ!
  • Aww, fuck!
  • God damnit!
  • HELL no!
  • Filth.
  • Ugh.



  • B-b-b-b-balla'!
  • I wasn't holding Pokémon cards over here.
  • I was holding the cards that time.
  • I'm going to get a repetitive stress injury raking in all these chips.
  • I dedicate this one to all the laydays.
  • Yes! Bringing home some bacon.
  • Delicious.
  • I suppose it's only natural that I win every hand.
  • It's like spotting a solo Level 5 on a PVP server and then rolling up on your flying mount, only to realize that he's being escorted by a cadre of stealth Level 80 rogues. Am I right? Am I right?
  • See, I actually know how to play this game.
  • I figured you weren't going to like these cards.
  • These cards ain't nothing to fuck with.
  • Tycho: You think it would get tiring winning all these pots.
    Strong Bad: It's pretty tiring hearing about it.
    Heavy: Do frail arms get tired?

(after a run of bad cards)Edit

  • Ah, finally.
  • Dry spell, over.
  • Alright, let's keep it going.

(everyone folds to him)Edit

  • Thanks, everybody.
  • If you all could just keep giving me the money, I'd--I'd be alright with that.
  • I'm just going to turn my DS on, and you guys keep giving me your money. This is an incredible system we've got here.
  • I fold too. I mean, I win! Tight.
  • Just keep buying in and folding, all right? Buying in and folding, that's what we're looking for.

Winning Another Player's Buy-inEdit

  • (Iron Curtain) I'll put this on the wall next to my chainsaw lancer replica.
  • (Dangeresque Too?) Sweet!
  • (Iron Curtain / Crimestomper Combo) I suppose I can find uses for this that aren't limited to murder.


  • A shame. That could have paid off some embarrassing debts.
  • Ugh, I needed that one. I owe man. I owe money to some very bad people.
  • Well, that was unpleasant.
  • If I bend over to pick up this chip off the floor, are you going to bury your entire foot in my ass? This is an honest question.
  • (if he loses to a weak hand) Really? That hand is the poker equivalent of a VD-riddled strumpet.
  • (if he loses to Max and had a strong hand) Tycho: Son of a bitching lagomorph.
    Max: I don't even know how to play this game.
    Tycho: That's fucking rich. That's just great. (pauses) Is there a guy in there?
    Max: Huh?
    Tycho: Some kinda card-counter astrophysicist motherfucker? Am I close?
    Max: Why I never!
    Tycho: I've seen you around with that guy in the dog costume. DON'T YOU LIE TO ME.

Player's WinEdit

  • That'll do, cards. That'll do.
  • THOSE cards will do.
  • Look who's wearing the daddy pants.
  • If I bend over to pick up this chip off the floor, are you gonna bury your entire foot in my ass? This is an honest question.
  • Good hand.

Player's Loss (Player has Bad Hand)Edit

  • Tycho: Oh, I see what you're doing. You've attended the Jonathan Gabriel School of Playing Total Shit and then Seeing What Happens.
    Max: I'm enrolled in their extension program!
  • If you're going to play cards like that, you may want to navigate a menu to confirm a low difficulty setting.
  • You are aware that the goal of this game is to play the best cards?
  • You are playing rubbish, you know.
  • You're playing those cards, huh? You should come to our high-stakes "feathers on the forehead" night sometime.

Splitting the PotEdit

  • Huh. I was hoping for a clash with a little more valor.
  • Neither of us really deserves to win this one.
  • Ah, figures.
  • If we meet again, on the field of battle, it's going down. Just a heads up.

Player is EliminatedEdit

  • See you around.
  • Peace out.
  • Man, if I were you, I'd be sweating hate. It'd froth from my mouth and nose. It'd be like that movie, There Will Be Froth.
  • Out huh? What's next for ya? Curl up with an adventure game, perhaps, or are you headed straight to a brothel?
  • Maybe you could circle 'round for some Poker Tips later? Cool, cool.

Eliminated from playEdit

  • I suppose I'd better mosey.
  • If anyone's got cab fare, that'd be much appreciated.
  • Ladies, gents, it's been a pleasure. Also go fuck your respective selves.
  • See, this is why Gabe and I play StarCraft on Easy.
  • I want you to know that I may end up in a dumpster thanks to this loss.
  • Defeat is a taste I'm not familiar with. It's a taste I don't like.
  • (Note: This one only appears when Tycho is the first eliminated)
    Tycho: Urgh, fine time to just-- {reaches for pocket}
    {The sound of Strong Bad and Max drawing their guns, Tycho looks worried.}
    {The sound of Sasha rev-ing up.}
    {Tycho turns to see Max, Strong Bad, and the Heavy threatening him with the Lugermorph, Nunchuck gun, and default Sasha respectivly.}
    {Heavy and Max look regretful}
    Heavy: Oh. {puts Sasha down}
    Max: Woopsie! {Throws Luger away}
    {Strong Bad keeps pointing his gun at Tycho}
    Strong Bad: Hand it over.
    {Tycho shakes his head and leaves}

Eliminated from Play (after wagering the Enthusiast's Timepiece)Edit

  • {looking back, watching the Timepiece disappear} Hmm, I'm gonna miss that thing.

Player Wins the TournamentEdit

  • GG. Whaddya say you and I roll out, stop by the OG -your treat- and then drop the rest of that money on some new procs? They got the spinners on there now. Tight, let's go.
  • I have to say, I appreciate your restraint. Gabriel would be showing me his balls right now. Unless you're about to do that.
  • Well, Strong Bad didn't win, which pleases me. {imitating Strong Bad} He needs to be taken down a peg.
  • Well, I suppose the other potential outcomes of this tourney had this money being spent on corndogs, 8-bit video games, or bullets. All worthy purchases, actually.

Winnning the TournamentEdit

  • Ding, motherfuckers!
  • I don't really believe in being smug when you win. It's wrong. But I did win, and the sensation is incredible.
  • In case you were wondering, yes, I am the Kwisatz Haderach.
  • I wouldn't feel too bad about losing. I do play a lot of games.
  • Goddamn! I took this shit down!

Player is IdleEdit

  • Can you please make a "hurry-the-fuck-up" roll?
  • Hey, Chuwero! Look lively!
  • Play! I've got kids at home. Alone. With easy access to KNIVES.
  • We don't have all day, or night for that matter.
  • I have it on good authority that playing cards don't improve with age.
    Heavy: Neither does dead body.
    Max: But THIS will! (farts)
    Note: Only one of the other players will respond at a time.
  • If I was DM'ing this poker tournament, you'd be eaten alive by Displacer Beasts by now. I wouldn't even roll.
  • Maybe just hit the pause button?
  • Come. The fuck. ON.
  • Tycho: If you don't play soon, Max is going to start shoving things, including human limbs, into his mouth indiscriminately.
    Max: HEY! I take note of the things I shove blindly into my mouth.
    Strong Bad: This might get interesting!


With Strong BadEdit

  • Tycho: How do you do anything... you know, even remotely interesting with hands like that?
    Strong Bad: You mean besides punching your groin-face in the face-groin?
    Tycho: I mean, let's say you somehow get an opportunity with the ladies.
    Strong Bad: SOMEHOW? I had to cancel like five dates with nine super models just to be here!
    Tycho: Right right right. But what about the bra-factor? How do you work the clasp?
    Strong Bad: Ha, like they don't just fly off when the ladies enter my natural musk fog.

With MaxEdit

  • Tycho: Hey Max, give me the skinny on your pockets.
    Max: Excuuuuse me?
    Tycho: You know, where you keep all that stuff. That's like Hollywood magic, right?
    Max: No, but that was a nickname of mine in college.
    Tycho: Really?
    Max: No, I never went to college.
  • Tycho: Max, how'd you learn to play cards?
    Max: Funny you should ask! This one time, Sam and I were busting up a crime syndicate down in Atlantic City. A road job.
    Tycho: Indeed.
    Max: Yeah! So we're tailing this low level mafia bum for an hour and he pulls up outside a casino and before he can go in Sam says, "Well little buddy, we better nab this guy quicker than a Pittsburgh driver taking a left on a green in rush hour." I couldn't have agreed more. So I grab a tire iron out of the back seat, right, hop out of the Desoto, and pummel this guy like a piñata.
    Tycho: Yow!
    Max: Blindfold and all!
    Tycho: ...That doesn't really answer my question.
    Max: You asked me a question?
  • Tycho: Hey Max, how do you like being a freelance police officer?
    Max: It's the best.
    Tycho: I bet it is.
    Max: Oh, but that's not all I do. I'm also available for babysitting, bat mitzvahs and general shakedowns. You know anybody who needs work?
    Tycho: See, this why I think we get along. You're a Renaissance man.
    Max: You need anybody roughed up?
    Tycho: There's a bird at the pet store that's been giving me a little beak, yeah.
    Max: Oh ho, putting a wise acre in his place is my specialty!
  • Tycho: Hey Max, remember when you found that machine and went back to 1964 and met Momma Bosco?
    Max: Yeah!
    Tycho: Out of curiosity, did anything happen with that?
    Max: Well, Sam and I jumped through time and encountered a cow-hybrid version of Bosco on a spaceship.
    Tycho: No, I meant with Momma Bosco. Like, between you and her.
    Max: Uh...?
    Tycho: Ya know; did you guys get down to anything untoward? Or toward, even? Maybe while Sam was in the time machine? You can tell me, I'll put it in the vault. {grins mischievously} Deep in the vault.
    Max: {shocked} Are you asking me if I ever schtupped Momma Bosco?
    Tycho: No? Never mind then.
  • Tycho: You know this place has been around almost 100 years?
    Max: Wow! That's older than some frozen burritos I've sucked down.
    Tycho: This was the original location of Dick and Kent's Games and Amusements Factory, founded in 1899. When Kent found out that an early draft of the 18th Amendment contained a clause outlawing the sales of games and amusements, he opened this place in secret so makers and enthusiasts would always have a place to go. Hence the tight security and pat-down at the door.
    Max: I just thought they were being courteous.

With HeavyEdit

  • Tycho: So, what do you do for fun, Heavy?
    Heavy: Clean Sasha, use Sasha, clean Sasha again...
    Proper maintenance is crucial.
    I also collect old coins.
    A fellow numismatist!
    ...Which I melt down to make custom bullets.
    Of course you do.
  • Tycho: Hey Heavy, I bet you and I can talk Tetris.
    Heavy: Hmmph. Tetris is a baby game.
    Tycho: You ever play Tetris Attack? That game keeps it hood. Am I right?
    Heavy: Why does everyone think I love this Tetris? It is just stacking.
    Tycho: You make a decent point. It is just stacking.
  • Tycho: Humor me for a moment. I'd like to talk Tetris Attack.
    Heavy: Ok.
    Tycho: Imagine you are in a pit.
    Heavy: Gravel Pit?
    Tycho: Stay with me. The crushing weight of stone blocks rains down upon you. Your life depends on your ability to destroy these blocks.
    Heavy: I can imagine this.
    Tycho: And as you smash and crush your way through these blocks, out of the corner of your eye, you see your enemy in a pit similar to your own.
    Heavy: I can kill this enemy?
    Tycho: Yes, Heavy. Yes you can. For every block you destroy will be re-delivered upon his head. And if you manage to break many blocks in combination, the sheer volume of stone will overcome him. You will hear his bones bend and snap beneath stone rain. Do you think you would like this game?
    Heavy: Yes, I think so. Very much.
    {Tycho smiles devilishly}
  • Tycho: Hey, Heavy. I just finished this Russian fantasy novel called The Dirge of the Moskva. Ever read it?
    Heavy: No.
    Tycho: Oh. Well what's your favorite book?
    Heavy: I prefer war.
    Tycho: Ah, War and Peace. Tolstoy. Tasteful.
    Heavy: No. Just war.
    Tycho: Art of War? Sun Tzu?
    Heavy: Nyet. I like "Tsar Hunger," by Leonid Andreyev. You know this?
    Tycho: I... hmm. I'm afraid I don't.
    Heavy: Is classic.
  • Tycho: Heavy, concerning your firearm, what sort of caliber are we talking?
    Heavy: Big.
    Tycho: Like what? Are we talking .300 Weatherby Mag here?
    Heavy: Bigger.
    Tycho: .50 Cal? Thereabouts?
    Heavy: Bigger than .50 caliber. They are handmade, custom tooled cartridges with classified diameter.
    Tycho: Why's that?
    Heavy: So enemy cannot use ammunition. But Sasha can chew through theirs.
    Tycho: Diabolical!
    Heavy: I think so.
  • Tycho: You ever listen to music while you work, Heavy?
    Heavy: Yes. I just buy new walkman.
    Tycho: What gets you in the killin' mood? Ride of the Valkyries? Icelandic death metal?
    Heavy: I just get Huey Louis tape. He keeps spirits up on battlefield.
  • Tycho: If I needed someone snuffed out, Heavy Weapons Guy, what's your going rate?
    Heavy: Five hundred thousand US dollars.
    Tycho: Steep.
    Heavy: Cash.
    Tycho: And you can do this... discreetly?
    Heavy: Sasha not so discreet.
    Tycho: That's fine actually. (Awkward silence) Don't judge me.
  • Tycho: So, is there a Mrs. Weapons Guy?
    Heavy: No. Sasha is my only love.
    Tycho: Sasha kills people, I presume.
    Heavy: No.
    Tycho: Oh?
    Heavy: WE kill people.
  • Tycho: So, Heavy, find any rare drops lately?
    Heavy: I do not understand.
    Tycho: When you get a kill, sometimes you get a present, right?
    Heavy: When I get kill, I get honor of team. Sometimes I also get nightmares. A man does not go home to his wife and children.
    Tycho: Sooooo... no loot then.
    Heavy: Oh! You mean hat! Yes, I love hats! Sometimes, I get these. They are da best.
  • Tycho: So, how long have you been with those Team Fortress fellas? That seems like steady work.
    Heavy: I do not understand.
    Tycho: The game's been on Steam for three years. I imagine there was some sort of audition process?
    Heavy: Ohhh, YES, I understand. I kill many men very quickly.
    Tycho: Excuse me?
    Heavy: I kill record number of soldiers, and I am comissioned to join RED team.

With Heavy and Strong BadEdit

  • Tycho: All of this card playing has me a bit parched. I could use a stiff drink.
    Strong Bad: {angrily, with narrowed eyes} What's your poison, nerd-monger?
    Tycho: {smugly} A gin fizz. Depending on the occasion.
    Strong Bad: Ha! {points toward Tycho} You're a girl. You pledged in a sorority in college, and you learned to make that drink there. Now, the big beefer, the morning pukies, the dirty sweatsock. Those are the drinks of champee-ons.
    Tycho: {with raised, narrowed eyebrows} How about you, Heavy Weapons Guy? I'm going to go out on a limb and say you're a vodka guy.
    Heavy: Peach bellini, but bubbles can give me headache.

Continuing a ConversationEdit

  • Anyway...
  • So I was saying...
  • Where was I? Oh!
  • So anyway...
  • Back to what I was saying.
  • Oh, so...
  • Anyway, I was saying...
  • What was I saying? Oh, right.
  • Anyway, back to me.
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