Tim: "Es
scheint nicht richtig dass Deutschland ein mangel an ninjas hat."
Tracy: "I'm sorry, I don't speak your crazy moon language."
Tim: "Not moon language, dude. GERMAN. Possibly that is also what moon-people speak, but I think that would be an astounding coincidence. I thought it would be nice to show our German readers some love. Because that is how I roll."
Tracy: "I maintain that speaking to me in a language I don't understand kind of makes you a douche, dude."
Tim: "I bet the Germans don't think I'm a douche right now. I submit the whole of Germany kind of trumps just one Tracy."
Tracy: "Surprise, dude. I am part German. And I still insist on your douchery."
Tim: "I am part German as well, and I must say that I am shocked and appalled at such indifference coming from a fellow partial countryman concerning our partial culture."
Tracy: "I think it's because I am mostly from Alsace-Lorraine and so naturally possessed of a certain "sod you" mentality."
Tim: "Aha. That would be the difference, then. I think I'm from the other part. You know, the part that does not lollygag around when it comes to reconnecting with my roots, especially when it concerns matters of such import. What's wrong with you, dude? Why do you hate matters of import?"
Tracy: "I don't think 'matters of import' means what you seem to think it means."
Tim: "You don't think the lack of ninjas in the Fatherland is a cause for concern? Is that what you are telling me? And the Fatherland?"
Tracy: "The very last thing the Fatherland needs is ninjas, dude. It messes with the fabled Teutonic efficiency."
Tim: "The Teutons? What was that, like 2000 years ago? I think you need to let go of the past, Fraulein."
Tracy: "You , pal, are a dork."
Tim: "Comments like that are why I never share my strudel with you, you know."
Tracy: "Dude, *sigh*. Never mind."
Tim: "Keine strudel fur sie, dude."
Tracy: "That sound you hear? That's the sound of my head exploding."