Discworld II: Mortality Bytes! (1996 Video Game)

Rob Brydon: Death, Archchancellor Mustrum Ridcully, Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler, Windle Poons, Dean, Ponder Stibbons, Lord Vetinari, Skazz, Casanunder, Henry Coffin, Gimlet, St. Ungulant, Ixolite, Duck Man, Vampire, Ship Captain, Point-Me-Own-Bone Dibbjla, D'Blah, Stoning Women, Architect, Rock Seller, Troll Security Guard, Elf #1, Skeleton Singers, Bonestock Announcer, Narrator

Quotes 

• Windle Poons : If this is Heaven, I wish I'd done wicked things when I was alive.

• Archchancellor Mustrum Ridcully : I haven't seen anything this awful since I saw the Dean in the showers.

• Rincewind : Collect a babe, a jingle and some novelties... I don't suppose you'd consider collecting them yourself?

  Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler : No, mate! What sort of fool would waste his valuable leisure time voluntarily going off on annoying little quests set by stupid and ungrateful people, eh?

  Rincewind : Ha ha ha. Yes, he'd have to be some sort of idiot, wouldn't he?

• Bursar : Er, he, he, um... He, he says he's not dead!

  Windle Poons : I AM dead. But I'm still bloody ambulatory!

  Archchancellor Mustrum Ridcully : No, you're not. You're fooling no one but yourself, you know.

  Bursar : Hmmm. Well, he, he looks dead.

  Archchancellor Mustrum Ridcully : [sniffs]  Smells dead. Course, he always did though.

• Duckman : Spare a gold piece, sir? Spare a gold piece?

  Rincewind : A whole gold piece? Most people don't earn that in a month!

  Duckman : Well, the streets are swarming with beggars, sir, so I just thought I'd establish myself in a different niche market. You know, beggar to the upper gentry.

  Rincewind : Oh really?

  Duckman : So, as I say, sir, any gold pieces to spare? Perhaps raw bullion? Shares, futures, that sort of thing?

  Rincewind : Oh, stop it! And go and do something about that duck!

  Duckman : [has a live duck on his head]  What duck?

• Ship Captain : Aaaaar! Yo ho ho, me matey! Shiver your timber, avast improvement!

  Dead Collector : Stop that!

  Ship Captain : Oh, please! It's genuine nautical gibberish.

  Dead Collector : No! I've told you about that. I'm only doing business with you if you stop all ridiculous yo-ho-ho business. It's... demeaning.

  Ship Captain : But it's establishing character!

  Dead Collector : No, it's establishing that you are a loony! This is supposed to be a sea voyage, not Captain Seadog's Little Shipmates Holiday Fun Club!

  Ship Captain : Look, if we're going to sea, then we ought to establish ourselves as acceptable stereotypes of sea-going characters. It all stands to reason! Now, you can't hold me responsible for the paradigms which grip our customers. They don't think you're real without all that "Avast the mainbrace! Arrrr!" business. Word-of-mouth advertising can make-or-break a business like mine.

  Dead Collector : Word of mouth! They're dead!

  Ship Captain : Oh. Oh, all right. Just bring 'em onboard then and we'll forget all about it.

  [the Dead Collector tosses the bodies onto the ship, including Rincewind] 

  Ship Captain : [muttering]  Arrrr, so, er, timbers, arrrr. Shiver, arrrr, errrr, hoist, hoist, er, hurhurhur, herrr. Oh, locker, oh, her, herr! Oh, wooden, wooden, oh, errr, mouse... oh, stop, no, ho ho...

  Dead Collector : What?

  Ship Captain : Erm, nothing! Er, just, um, ahem, clearing me throat!

  Dead Collector : There's something very odd about you.

• Henry Coffin : [coughing violently]  Ere, spare a groat for a...

  [coughs] 

  Henry Coffin : Spare a... Eeeer, damn! Forgotten what I was asking now!

• Rincewind : A rodent bar. How lovely.

  Gimlet : Prime eatin', sir. Vole-au-vents and rat-tatouille. Fresh caught at the table, sir.

  Rincewind : And do you cook them?

  Gimlet : Cook? Ha, and ruin the flavour?

• Rincewind : So, we're into clickies now, are we? At last the monkey has found the banana plantation.

  Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler : Yep, moving pictures. Clickies! Ah, now there's romance for you. Hot dogs, popcorn, drink stands, the merry rumble of candy rolling down the aisles.

  Rincewind : And the shows? Don't forget the actual clickies themselves!

  Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler : What? Oh, oh yeah, I mean the shows go without saying. Chocolate-dipped ice cream, novelty drinking cups, collectable lobby cards...

  Rincewind : I don't believe this! You mean to tell me that art has to take a second place to cheap licensing and marketing? Well, I can tell you that I'm above that sort of thing! Catch me being involved in some damned licensing scam? Hah! Fat chance. The last think I'd ever do is allow myself to become involved in a shabby marketing ploy designed to use a famous name to sell a product which is in itself devoid of any real... Hmmmm... right. Well, good luck with the career and I'll be off.

  [Rincewind walks away] 

  Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler : Did we mention the range of pewter figurines and exciting T-shirts this time?

  Rincewind : Shhhh.

• Rincewind : If I promise you that I'll find a way of making you popular, will you come back?

  Death : People will like me, you promise?

  Rincewind : Cross my heart and hope to meet you in your professional capacity.

• Rincewind : Are you sure there's no one else's life you'd like to ruin?

  Archchancellor Mustrum Ridcully : At the moment, I'm content to merely ruin the life of Assistant Wizard Rincewind. I suppose if pushed, I could try ruining the life of Gardener's Assistant Rincewind... Assistant Street Sweeper Rincewind... Actually, I feel a certain yearning to really come down like a ton of rectangular building things upon a Sewerage Systems Blockage Removal Technician Rincewind!

  Rincewind : Um, so that was 3 sticks, mouse's blood, glitter, stench and candles. Right, back in a tick! Or maybe a jiffy!

• [Rincewind is chased out of the elf kingdom by a pair of camp elves] 

  Elf #1 : And don't come back!

  Elf #2 : You set foot in here again and you'll be taking your ears home in your hat.

  Elf #1 : We are fey creatures of the twilight, pal, not little tooth fairies.

  Elf #2 : The difference is we take all your teeth and leave your head under the pillow.

• Rincewind : You wouldn't say there's anything in the slightest bit unusual in your appearance at all?

  Duckman : [has a live duck on his head]  No. Why?

  Rincewind : Nothing that, say, when viewed in a mirror might give you pause for thought?

  Duckman : What's a mirror, sir?

  Rincewind : Ah! We may, in fact, have reached the root of the problem. However it's a silly problem and so I am suddenly going to stop talking to you.

• Rincewind : You want me to find out where Death has gone?

  Archchancellor Mustrum Ridcully : Oh, only if you don't want to spend the rest of your life staring out across a pond... at all the other toads.

  Rincewind : Frogs.

  Archchancellor Mustrum Ridcully : If you prefer.