Can...can you tell me you're proud of me? Oh, that's a little weird? Yeah, I guess you're right. I'll see you in the morning.

And he'll rub your peepee until you fall asleep.

It's no emotionally supportive Funky Kong driving you home from the airport.

My dear friend, do not fret! Tomorrow we will awaken and go to terrorize the coastal villages. How could you be sad in the face of that? Imagine, either as much booze and riches and girls await us as we can handle, or we die gloriously and take our rightful place in Valhalla, to fight and feast until Ragnarok. Be of good cheer!