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The garbage man asks Dogbert, "Not much garbage . . . Did somebody die?" Dogbert replies, "Dilbert went to the compost pile in the sky." The garbage man reads a piece of paper and says, "Bad timing . . . Judging from last week's garbage, he had almost finished his cloning machine design. I only notice a few linear math errors." The garbage man continues, "This design would just create a hologram and a bad chile con carne recipe." Dogbert says, "Man, you sure know your garbage!"
Dilbert reads a travel magazine and says to Dogbert, "This year we should vacation where the leaves turn orange and fall off." Dogbert asks, "Los Angeles in the summer?" Dilbert replies, "No . . . Someplace where they don't scream before they die." Dogbert says, "You can't hear them over the traffic."
Andy: Androids want to be like humans. Tell me what humans do. Dilbert: Mostly, they eat, sleep, and hope they don't die. Andy: That's it? Dilbert: Unless they find religion... Then they eat, sleep, and look forward to dying.
Dilbert sits in his chair reading the newspaper. Dogbert asks, "Do you mind if I get a turtle for a pet?" Dilbert replies, "That sounds cute. Maybe you can teach it to do tricks." Dogbert asks a giant turtle, "Can you do any tricks?" The turtle replies, "I can roll on my back and die."
Dilbert and Dogbert sit outdoors. Dilbert says, "I have no luck." Dogbert says, "You know what they say, 'If life gives you lemons, make lemonade.'" Dilbert replies, "I'm allergic to citrus." Dogbert says, "You know what they say, 'If life gives you lemons, swell up and die.'"
Dilbert sits on the floor and leans against the couch and Dogbert sits on the couch. Dilbert asks, "Why do women write letters to guys who are in prison?" Dilbert continues, "Maybe if I commit a crime I can go to prison just long enough to improve my social life." Dogbert asks, "Why not do a personals ad instead?" Dilbert replies, "That's more of a last resort."
Dogbert says to a patient on the examining table, "You have a mild flu, and normally you would survive." Dogbert continues, "However, in this brief visit I've developed no real empathy for you, so I've decided to let you die." The man asks, "Is there anything I can do?!" Dogbert replies, "Well . . . Unless you can afford my new 'Ambassador Class' service."
Dilbert: I'm going to the big technology show. Dogbert: what do you do there? Dilbert: I will wade though vast sea of mostly curly haired guys with facials hair and glasses and I will look at thousands of indistinct products, Dilbert: Its like salmon returning to it birthplace. Dogbert: But without the spawning opportunities,
The Boss hands Dilbert a sheet of paper and says, "From now on, salaries will be based on your predicted success, not your past performance." While Dilbert reads the report, the Boss says, "We ran a computer model against your education and DNA information. We predict you'll die in a stapler mishap within a week." Dilbert asks, "What if I disagree with this prediction?" The Boss points at Dilbert and says, "Write up your opinion and staple it to the analysis."
A prospective client sits across from Dogbert's desk. Dogbert says, "Stocks . . . annuities . . . derivatives . . . capital gains tax . . ." Dogbert shouts, "It's all too confusing for you!! Give me all your money now or you'll die a pauper!! Now! Now!! Before interest rates fall!! As he signs a document, the client says, "Will this reduce my income taxes?" Dogbert says, "More than you might guess."