Portal 2

GLaDOS:
[from trailer] I think we can put our differences behind us... for science... you monster.

Wheatley:
[Wheatley leads Chell through a dark area of the facility] Ah, brilliant! You made it through! Well done. Okay, follow me. We've still got work to do. At least she can't touch us back here.

[lights in the room start to go off one by one]

Wheatley:
What's happening? Um... Hmm. Okay...

[it is now pitch black]

Wheatley:
Okay, uh... Don't move. [beat] Okay, all right. So, I've got an idea, but it is *bloody* dangerous. Here we go...

[turns flashlight on]

Wheatley:
AAAAH!

[looks around]

Wheatley:
Oh, for God's - they told me that if I ever turned this flashlight on, I would *die!* They told me that about everything! I don't even know why they bother giving me this stuff if they didn't want me to use it; it's pointless! Mad!

GLaDOS:
[waking up] Oh. It's *you.*

Wheatley:
[shocked, to Chell] You *know* her?

GLaDOS:
It's been a long time. How have you been? I've been *really* busy being dead. You know, after you MURDERED ME?

Wheatley:
You did WHAT?

Wheatley:
Most test subjects do experience some, uh, cognitive deterioration after a few months in suspension. Now, you've been under for quite a lot longer, and it's *not* out of the question that you might have a *very* minor case of serious brain damage! But don't be alarmed, all right? Uh, although if you do feel alarmed, try to hold on to that feeling because that is the proper reaction to being told that you've got brain damage.

GLaDOS:
[Chell and GLaDOS are falling down a very long shaft] Oh. Hi. So. How are you holding up? BECAUSE I'M A POTATO.

[claps slowly three times]

GLaDOS:
Oh, good. My slow-clap processor made it into this thing. So we have that. Since it doesn't look like we're going anywhere - Well, we *are* going somewhere. Alarmingly fast, actually. - but since we're not busy other than that, here's a couple of facts: he's not just a regular moron. He's the product of the greatest minds of a generation working together with the express purpose of building the *dumbest* moron who ever lived. And *you* just put him in charge of the entire facility.

[clap, clap]

GLaDOS:
Good, that's still working. Hey, just in case this pit isn't actually bottomless, do you think maybe you could unstrap one of those long-fall boots of yours and shove me into it? Just remember to land on one foot...

Wheatley:
Okay, listen, we should get our stories straight, all right? If anyone asks - and no one's gonna ask, don't worry - but if anyone asks, tell them as far as you know, the last time you checked, everyone looked pretty much alive, all right? Not dead.

[When Wheatley first meets Chell]

Wheatley:
HA! I knew someone was alive in here. [door opens] AH! Oh. My. God. You look ter - ummm... good. Looking good, actually.

Oracle Turret:
[Chell and Wheatley are making their way through the bowels of the Aperature Laboratries complex and encounter a turret stuck inside one of the pipes of the facility's pipe network] Hello?

Wheatley:
Oh no...

Oracle Turret:
Hello?

Wheatley:
Yes, hello! No, we're not stopping!

Oracle Turret:
Excuse me?

Wheatley:
[whispers to Chell] Don't make eye contact, whatever you do.

Oracle Turret:
Hello?

Wheatley:
No thanks! We're good! Appreciate it!

[whispering to Chell]

Wheatley:
Keep walking! Keep walking!

Oracle Turret:
Thanks anyway.

Announcer:
If you feel liquid running down your neck, relax, lie on your back, and apply immediate pressure to your temples. You are simply experiencing a rare reaction in which the Material Emancipation Grill may have emancipated the ear tubes inside your head.

Announcer:
Good work getting this far, future-starter! That said, if you are simple-minded, old, or irradiated in such a way that the future should not start with you, please return to your primitive tribe and send back someone better-qualified for testing.

Wheatley:
There should be a portal device on that podium over there. I can't see it though. Maybe it fell off. Do you want to go and have a quick look?

[Chell falls through hole in the ground while examining the podium]

Wheatley:
Whoah! Hello? Can you see the portal gun? Also, are you alive? That's important; should have asked that first. I'm - do you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to work on the assumption that you're still alive, and I'm just going to wait for you up ahead. I'll wait - I'll wait one hour. Then I'll come back, and, assuming I can locate your dead body, I'll bury you. All right? Brilliant! Go, team! See you in an hour! Hopefully! If you're not - dead.

[Chell completes a puzzle]

GLaDOS:
Well done. Here are the test results: You are a horrible person. I'm serious, that's what it says: "A horrible person." We weren't even testing for that. Don't let that horrible-person thing discourage you. It's just a data point. If it makes you feel any better, science has now validated your birth mother's decision to abandon you on a doorstep.

GLaDOS:
Most people emerge from suspension terribly undernourished. I want to congratulate you on beating the odds and somehow managing to pack on a few pounds.

GLaDOS:
I hope you brought something stronger than a portal gun this time. Otherwise, I'm afraid you're about to become the immediate past president of the Being Alive Club. Ha, ha.

GLaDOS:
[Chell and GLaDOS, as a potato, are flying toward Wheatley, into a trap] Aaaah!

GLaDOS:
[On a platform, surrounded with spiked stompers] Well, this is the part where he kills us.

Wheatley:
This is the part where I kill you!

[On-Screen caption:
Chapter 9: the Part Where He Kills You]

Wheatley:
[Achievement unlocked: the part where he kills you. This is that part]

Cave Johnson:
Those of you who volunteered to be injected with praying mantis DNA, I've got some good news and some bad news. Bad news is we're postponing those tests indefinitely. Good news is we've got a much better test for you: fighting an army of mantis men. Pick up a rifle and follow the yellow line. You'll know when the test starts.

Cave Johnson:
Science isn't about *why* - it's about *why not*. *Why* is so much of our science dangerous? Why not *marry* safe science if you love it so much? In fact, why not invent a special safety door that won't hit you in the butt on the way out, because *you are fired!* Not you, test subject. You're doing fine. [to someone else] Yes, *you*. Box. Your stuff. Out the front door. Parking lot. Car. Goodbye.

Cave Johnson:
[Cave Johnson died long before the events of the game. Chell and GLaDOS are listening to his last recorded words, a message for his human test subjects, which he made while he was deathly ill] All right, I've been thinking, when life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade!

GLaDOS:
Yeah.

Cave Johnson:
Make life take the lemons back!

GLaDOS:
Yeah!

Cave Johnson:
Get Mad!

GLaDOS:
Yeah!

Cave Johnson:
I don't want your damn lemons! What am I supposed to do with these?

GLaDOS:
Yeah, take the lemons!

Cave Johnson:
Demand to see life's manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Cave Johnson lemons! Do you know who I am? I'm the man whose gonna burn your house down - with the lemons!

GLaDOS:
Oh, I like this guy.

Cave Johnson:
I'm gonna get my engineers to invent a combustible lemon that'll burn your house down!

GLaDOS:
Burn it down! Burning people. He says what we're all thinking.

Cave Johnson:
[sickly cough] The point is, if we can store music on a compact disc, why can't we store a man's inteligence and personality on one? So I have the engineers figuring that one out right now. Brain mapping, artificial inteligence - we should've been working on it thirty years ago. And I will say this, and I'm gonna say it on tape so everybody will hear it a hundred times a day: If I die before you people can pour me in to a computer, I want Caroline to run this place.

[another sickly cough]

Cave Johnson:
Now she'll argue. She'll say she can't do it. She's modest like that. But you make her! Hell, put her in my computer. I don't care.

[another sickly cough]

Cave Johnson:
All right, test's over. You can head on back to your desk.

GLaDOS:
Goodbye, sir.

[to Atlas and P-body during co-op mode]

GLaDOS:
As an impartial collaboration facilitator, it would be unfair of me to name my favorite member of your team. However, it's perfectly fair to hint at it in a way that my least favorite probably isn't smart enough to understand. Rhymeswithglue. Orange, you are doing very well.

[to Atlas and P-body during co-op mode]

GLaDOS:
The two of you have formed an excellent partnership, with one of you handling the cerebral challenges and the other ready to ponderously waddle into action should the test suddenly become an eating contest.

Wheatley:
Ooh. It's dark down here, isn't it? They say that the old caretaker of this place went absolutely crazy. Chopped up his entire staff - of robots - all of them robots! They say at night you can still hear the screams - of their replicas. All of them functionally indistinguishable from the originals... No memory of the incident... Nobody knows what they're screaming about. Ab-solutely terrifying. Though obviously not paranormal in any meaningful way.

GLaDOS:
[after Chell steps on an Aerial Faith Plate for the first time] Look at you, soaring through the air like an eagle... piloting a blimp.

[Chell and Wheatley are standing on a catwalk above a pit filled with debris]

Wheatley:
Jump! Actually, looking at it, that's quite a distance, isn't it? You know what? Go ahead and jump. You've got braces on your legs. No braces on your arms, though. Gonna have to rely on the old human strength to keep a grip on the device and, by extension, me. So do. Do make sure to maintain a grip. Also, a note: no braces on your spine, either, so don't land on that. Or your head. No braces there. That could split like a melon from this height.

[Nervous laugh]

Wheatley:
Do definitely focus on landing with your legs.

Cave Johnson:
The lab boys just informed me that I should not have mentioned the control group. They're telling me I oughta stop making these prerecorded messages. That gave me an idea - make more prerecorded messages! I pay the bills here; I can talk about the control group all damn day.

Space Core:
Dad! I'm in space!

[low-pitched space voice]

Space Core:
I'm proud of you, son.

[normal voice]

Space Core:
Dad, are you space?

[low-pitched space voice]

Space Core:
Yes, now we are a family again.

Fact Core:
Before the Wright Brothers invented the airplane, anyone wanting to fly anywhere was required to eat 200 pounds of helium.

Fact Core:
During the Great Depression, the Tennessee Valley Authority outlawed pet rabbits, forcing many to hot glue-gun long ears onto their pet mice.

Fact Core:
Marie Curie invented the theory of radioactivity, the treatment of radioactivity, and dying of radioactivity.

Fact Core:
The square root of rope is string.

Adventure Core "Rick":
I'll tell ya, it's times like this I wish I had a waist so I could wear all my black belts. Yeah, I'm a black belt. In pretty much everything - karate, larate, jiu jitsu, kick punching, belt making, tae kwon do, bedroom.

Adventure Core "Rick":
[to Chell] Oh, hey. Hiya, pretty lady. Name's Rick. So, you out having yourself a little adventure?

GLaDOS:
[at the entrance to test room 12] Perfect. The door's malfunctioning. I bet somebody's going to have to repair that, too. No, don't get up. I'll be right back. Don't touch anything.

[GLaDOS "leaves"]

Wheatley:
[outside a window] Hey, hey! Up here! I found some bird eggs up here; just dropped them into the door mechanism; shut it right down. I-...

[the bird suddenly swoops and attacks him]

Wheatley:
Aaah! Bird! Bird! Bird! Bird!

[runs away and comes back a few seconds later]

Wheatley:
Okay, that's probably the bird, isn't it? That laid the eggs! Livid! Okay, but the point is, we're going to break out of here, all right? Very soon, I promise, I promise. I just have to figure out how - to break us out of here. Here she comes! Keep testing; just keep testing. Remember, you never saw me. Never saw me.

[Leaves]

GLaDOS:
[the door is now completely open] I went and spoke with the door mainframe. Let's just say he won't be - well, living anymore. Anyway, back to testing!

Wheatley:
Ta da! Only the Turret Control Center, thank you very much.

Announcer:
[this announcer-turret cycle repeats continuously while Wheatley talks] Template.

Turret:
Hello.

[turret on conveyor belt is scanned and checked against the master turret in booth]

Announcer:
Response.

[turret on belt moves onward]

Wheatley:
See that scanner right there?

Announcer:
[occasionally, a defective turret will come through] Template.

Defective Turret:
Hello?

Announcer:
Response.

[the defective turret is catapulted into a trash chute]

Defective Turret:
Ah, come on!

[or one of many other phrases]

Wheatley:
It's deciding which turrets to keep and which to toss. And it's using that master template right there as a template. Now if we pull out the template turret, it will shut down the entire production line. Right, hmm... I'm gonna have to hack the door. So that we can get at it. Technical, um... You'll need to turn around while I do it. Turn around. I'll only be a second, if you wouldn't mind.

[Chell turns around; a crashing sound is heard]

Wheatley:
Done! Hacked!

[the glass in the top half of the door has been smashed]

Wheatley:
Okay, go on, just pull that other turret out.

[Chell uses portals to get inside and remove the template turret]

Wheatley:
Well, that should do it!

Announcer:
Template missing. Continuing from memory.

Wheatley:
[after meeting Chell, who has been in sleep stasis for many years] Most test subjects do experience some, um, cognitive deterioration after a few months in suspension. Now, you've been under for - quite a lot longer, and it's *not* out of the question that you might have a *very* minor case of - serious brain damage. But don't be alarmed, all right? Although if you do feel alarmed, try to hold onto that feeling, because that is the proper reaction to being told that you've got brain damage. Do you understand what I'm saying? At all? Does any of this make any sense? Just tell me, just say yes.

[Onscreen prompt:
Space SPEAK; button is pressed, Chell jumps]

Wheatley:
Okay, what you're doing there is jumping. Uh, you just jumped. But never mind; say apple. Apple!

[Onscreen prompt:
Space SAY APPLE; button is pressed, Chell jumps again, a distant alarm starts going off]

Wheatley:
Okay, you know what? That's close enough, just hold tight.

[Wheatley goes up his track into a hole in the ceiling]

Wheatley:
All right, so that last test was seriously disappointing. Apparently, being civil isn't motivating you, so let's try it her way, all right, fatty? Adopted... fatty! Fatty, fatty no parents?

GLaDOS:
And...?

Wheatley:
What?

GLaDOS:
What exactly is wrong with being adopted?

Wheatley:
What's wrong with being adopted? Um, well, uh, Lack of parents?

GLaDOS:
[to Chell] For the record, you are adopted and that's terrible. Just work with me.

Wheatley:
Some of my my best friends are actually orphans.

GLaDOS:
Also, look at her, you moron. She's not fat.

Wheatley:
I AM NOT A MORON! Just do the test; just do the test.

GLaDOS:
I feel awful about that surprise. Tell you what, let's give your parents a call right now. [phone dialing and ringing; in a stranger, lower voice] The birth parents you are trying to reach do not love you. Please hang up. [Dial tone; normal voice] Oh, that's sad. But impressive. Maybe they worked at the phone company.

Defective Turret:
[Chell grabs a defective turret flying through the air to the trash chute] Oh, thank god. You saved my bacon, pal. Where we going? Is this a jailbreak? I can't see a thing.

[She brings it back to the Turret Control Center where Wheatley is waiting]

Wheatley:
What do you have there? What are you-...

[Chell places the defective turret on the scanner]

Wheatley:
Oh, BRILLIANT! That's brilliant!

Announcer:
New template accepted.

Wheatley:
If we're lucky, she won't find out all her turrets are crap until it's too late.

[laughs]

Wheatley:
Classic.

GLaDOS:
[after GLaDOS recaptures Chell, she realizes that Chell and Wheatley have been sabotaging her turrets while away] Oh, you were busy back there. Well, I suppose we could just sit in this room and glare at each other until somebody drops dead, but I have a better idea.

[she extends a large clear pipe toward Chell]

GLaDOS:
It's your old friend, deadly neurotoxin. If I were you, I'd take a deep breath. And hold it.

Wheatley:
[Wheatley comes rolling down the pipe, which has no neurotoxin in it for a similar reason] Ooagh! GAH! Agh! Ugh! Enh! Agh! Ungh! Ow! Agh! Agh! Hello!

[lands]

GLaDOS:
I hate you so much.

Announcer:
Warning: central core is eighty percent corrupt.

GLaDOS:
That's funny, I don't feel corrupt. In fact, I feel pretty good.

Announcer:
Alternate core detected.

Wheatley:
Oh! That's ME they're talking about!

Announcer:
To initiate a core transfer, please deposit substitute core in receptacle.

GLaDOS:
Core transfer? Oh, you are kidding me.

Wheatley:
I've got an idea! Do what it says! plug me in!

GLaDOS:
Do NOT plug that little idiot into MY mainframe.

Announcer:
[Chell places Wheatley in the Substitute Core Transfer Receptacle] Core accepted. Substitute core, are you ready to start the procedure?

Wheatley:
Yes!

Announcer:
Corrupted core, are you ready to start the procedure?

GLaDOS:
No!

Wheatley:
Ohhhhhh, yes, she is.

GLaDOS:
Nonononononono!

Announcer:
Stalemate detected. Transfer procedure cannot continue.

GLaDOS:
[the system is attempting to swap GLaDOS for Wheatley] Stalemate detected. Transfer procedure cannot continue-...

GLaDOS:
Yes!

Wheatley:
Pull me out! Pull me out! Pull me out! Pull me out! Pull me out! Pull me out! Pull me out!

Announcer:
- -unless a stalemate associate is present to press the stalemate resolution button.

[the room machinery starts to move]

Wheatley:
Leave me in! Leave me in! Go press it!

GLaDOS:
Don't. Do it.

Wheatley:
Yes, do do it!

[Chell runs for the button in the adjacent room, but GLaDOS stops her with a panel coming out of the floor]

GLaDOS:
Not so fast! Think about this. You need to be a trained stalemate associate to press that button. You're unqualified.

Wheatley:
Don't listen to her! It IS true that you don't have the qualifications, but you've got something more important than that. A finger with which to press that button so that she won't kill us.

[Chell uses portals to get inside the room and past GLaDOS's floor panel blockage]

GLaDOS:
Impersonating a stalemate associate. I just added that to the list. It's a list I made of all the things you've done. Well, it's a list that I AM making, because you're still doing things right now, even though I'm telling you to stop. Stop, by the way.

[Chell presses the button]

Announcer:
Please return to the core transfer bay.

GLaDOS:
AHH!

Announcer:
Stalemate Resolved.

Wheatley:
[about to undergo a Core Transfer with GLaDOS] Here I go! Wait, what if this hurts? What if it REALLY hurts? Ohhh, I didn't think of that.

GLaDOS:
Oh, it will. Believe me, it will.

Wheatley:
Are you just saying that, or is it really going to hurt? You're just saying that, aren't you? No, you're not. It is going to hurt, isn't it? Exactly how painful are we - AGHHHHHH!

[the built-in systems begin to disassemble GLaDOS's head from her body from under the floor]

GLaDOS:
GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME! NO! STOP! No! No! NO! NO! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-...

[Some panels hide the actual transfer and dump GLaDOS's head out on the floor near Chell; Wheatley comes out, now controlling GLaDOS's body]

Wheatley:
Wowwwww! Check me out, partner! We did it! I'm in control of the whole facility now!

[Wheatley begins spinning around]

Wheatley:
Whoa - ho, ho! Would you look at this. Not too bad, eh? Giant robot. Massive! It's not just me, right? I'm bloody massive, aren't I? Oh, Right! The escape lift! I'll call it now.

[a small elevator rises up]

Wheatley:
There we go. Lift called.

Wheatley:
[Wheatley has just seized control of the facility from GLaDOS] Look how small you are down there! I can barely see you! Very tiny and insignificant! Let me tell you, I knew it was gonna be cool being in charge of everything, but - wow, this is cool! And check this out! I'm a bloody genius now!

[deeper voice]

Wheatley:
Est?s usando este software de traducci?n de forma incorrecta. Por favor consulta el manual. [Translated to You are using the system incorrectly, please refer to the manual for instructions]

[normal voice]

Wheatley:
I don't even know what I just said! But I can find out! Oh, Sorry! The lift. Sorry, I keep forgetting.

[he starts the lift moving up]

Wheatley:
This body is amazing, seriously! I can't get over how small you are! But I'm huge!

[he laughs, first jovial then turning to maniacal laugh]

Wheatley:
[his laugh trails off] Actually, why do we have to leave right now?

[brings the lift down]

Wheatley:
Do you have any idea how good this feels? I did this! Tiny little Wheatley did this!

GLaDOS:
[sounding exhausted and disgruntled] You didn't do anything. She did all the work.

Wheatley:
Oh, really? That's what the two of you think, is it? Well, maybe it's time I did something then.

[he uses the transfer tools to grab GLaDOS's head and pull her in]

GLaDOS:
What are you doing? NO! NO! NO!

Wheatley:
[ding sound, Wheatley reveals a potato with a device on it] Ahhh... See that? That is a potato battery. It's a toy for children. And now she lives in it.

[laughs]

GLaDOS:
I know you.

Wheatley:
Sorry, what?

GLaDOS:
The engineers tried everything to make me - behave. To slow me down. Once, they even attached an Intelligence Dampening Sphere on me. It clung to my brain like a tumor, generating an endless stream of terrible ideas.

Wheatley:
No! I'm not listening! I'm not listening!

GLaDOS:
It was YOUR voice.

Wheatley:
No! No! You're LYING! You're LYING!

GLaDOS:
Yes. You're the tumor. You're not just a regular moron. You were DESIGNED to be a moron.

Wheatley:
I am NOT! A MORON!

[Wheatley starts hitting the glass of the elevator Chell is in with the arm holding GLaDOS]

GLaDOS:
Yes you are! You're the moron they built to make me an idiot!

Wheatley:
[continues punching the glass] Well how about now? NOW WHO'S A MORON? Could a MORON PUNCH! YOU! INTO! THIS! PIT? Huh? Could a moron do THAT?

[the elevator, with Chell and GLaDOS in it, breaks completely and falls down the shaft]

Wheatley:
Uh-oh.

Cave Johnson:
[prerecorded message] Welcome, gentlemen, to Aperture Science. Astronauts, war heroes, Olympians - you're here because we want the best, and you are it. So who is ready to make some science?

Caroline:
I am!

Cave Johnson:
Ha ha! Now, you already met one another on the limo ride over, so let me introduce myself. I'm Cave Johnson. I own the place. That eager voice you heard is the lovely Caroline, my assistant. Rest assured, she has transferred your honorarium to the charitable organization of your choice. Isn't that right, Caroline?

Caroline:
Yes, sir, Mister Johnson.

Cave Johnson:
She's the backbone of this facility. Pretty as a postcard, too. Sorry, fellas. She's married. To science.

Cave Johnson:
As founder and CEO of Aperture Science, I thank you for your participation and hope we can count on you for another round of tests. We're not going to release this stuff into the wild until it's good and damn ready, so as long as you keep yourself in top physical form, there will always be a limo waiting for you. Say goodbye, Caroline.

Caroline:
Goodbye, Caroline!

Cave Johnson:
She is a gem.

Cave Johnson:
[prerecorded message] The testing area's just up ahead. The quicker you get through, the quicker you'll get your sixty bucks.

GLaDOS:
[on Chell's portal gun] Hold on, who...?

Cave Johnson:
[to Caroline] Caroline, are the compensation vouchers ready?

Caroline:
Yes, sir, Mr. Johnson!

GLaDOS:
[simultaneously but slower] Yes, sir, Mister Johnson. [snaps out of it] Why did I just - ? Who is that? What the *hell* is going on he...

[shorts out]

Defective Turrets:
I can't see a thing! What just happened? Better open fire!

[click click click click]

Defective Turrets:
Dang.

Defective Turrets:
[being flung into the trash chute] You can't fire me! I quiiiiiiit!

Defective Turrets:
So, we're all supposed to be blind now, right? Not just me? All right! Fantastic!

Defective Turrets:
I uh, don't have any bullets. You gonna give me bullets? Are there bullets up there? Where do I get my gun?

Defective Turrets:
Do we get some eyes at some point?

Defective Turrets:
Yeah, I am a bad man!

Defective Turrets:
Uh, blam! Blamblamblam! I'm not defective!

Defective Turrets:
Oh... no. I'm one of the bad ones, aren't I?

Defective Turrets:
Hey, squeaky voice, give me some of your bullets! Can I get some bullets here? Anyone got any bullets? Well, I tried.

Defective Turrets:
Clickity click click. Right on the money. Shootin' blanks every time. All the time.

Defective Turrets:
[high voice then normal] Hello? HEELLO? Heh. Aw, crap.

Wheatley:
I'll bet you're both dying to know what your big surprise is. Well, only TWO more chambers!

GLaDOS:
We're running out of time. I think I can break us out of here in the next chamber. Just play along.

[Chell steps onto an Aerial Faith Plate, but it unexpectedly launches her and GLaDOS sideways into a series of other Plates and an Excursion Funnel toward Wheatley's area]

Wheatley:
SURPRISE! We're doing it now.

GLaDOS:
Okay, credit where it's due: for a little idiot built specifically to come up with stupid, unworkable plans, that was a pretty well-laid trap.

Wheatley:
You've probably figured it out by now, but I don't need you anymore. I found two little robots back here, built specifically for testin'!

GLaDOS:
Oh, no. He found the cooperative testing initiative. It's something I came up with to phase out human testing just before you escaped. It wasn't anything personal. Just, you know. You DID kill me. Fair's fair.

[last lines]

Space Core:
[the Space Core is orbiting Wheatley; both are in space orbiting the Moon] So much space. Need to see it all.

Wheatley:
I wish I could take it all back. I honestly do. I honestly do wish I could take it all back. And not just 'cause I'm stranded in space.

Space Core:
I'm in space.

Wheatley:
I know you are, mate! Yep, we're both in space.

Space Core:
SPAAAAACE!

Wheatley:
Anyway, you know, if I was ever to see her again, do you know what I'd say?

Space Core:
I'm in space.

Wheatley:
I'd say, "I'm sorry." Sincerely. I am sorry - I was bossy... and monstrous... And, I am genuinely sorry.

Space Core:
I'm in space.

Wheatley:
The end.

GLaDOS:
[Chell wakes up after defeating the final boss] Oh, thank God you're all right. You know, being Caroline taught me a valuable lesson. I *thought* you were my greatest enemy, when all along you were my best friend. The surge of emotion that shot through me when I saved your life taught me an even more valuable lesson - where Caroline lives in my brain.

[beep]

Announcer:
Caroline deleted.

GLaDOS:
[her old self] Goodbye, Caroline. You know, deleting Caroline just now taught me a valuable lesson: the best solution to a problem is usually the easiest one. And I'll be honest. Killing you? Is hard. You know what my days used to be like? I just tested. Nobody murdered me. Or put me in a potato. Or fed me to birds. I had a pretty good life. And then you showed up. You dangerous, mute lunatic. So you know what? You win. Just go.

[GLaDOS starts Chell's elevator moving up; she laughs softly]

GLaDOS:
It's been fun. Don't come back.

Announcer:
[Chell arrives in a room with broken turrets on a conveyor belt to an incinerator] Turret redemption lines active. Please do not engage with turrets heading toward redemption.

[Chell jumps on the belt]

Announcer:
Turret redemption lines are not rides. Please exit the turret redemption line.

[Chell comes upon a working turret aiming its laser out]

Oracle Turret:
I'm different!

[Chell picks the turret up]

Oracle Turret:
Thank you.

[pause]

Oracle Turret:
Get mad!

[pause]

Oracle Turret:
Don't make lemonade!

[pause]

Oracle Turret:
Prometheus was punished by the gods for giving the gift of knowledge to man. He was cast to the bowels of the Earth and pecked by birds.

[pause]

Oracle Turret:
It won't be enough. The answer lies beneath us.

[pause]

Oracle Turret:
Her name is Caroline. Remember that. That's all I can say.

GLaDOS:
You look ugly in that jumpsuit. That's not my opinion; it's right here on your fact sheet. They said on everyone else it looked fine, but on you, it looked hideous. But still what does an old engineer know about fashion? Oh, wait, it's a she. Still, what does she know about - oh, wait. She has a medical degree. In fashion. From France.

Announcer:
This next test is very dangerous. To help you remain tranquil in the face of almost certain death, smooth jazz will be deployed, in three, two, one.

[Smooth Jazz music plays for ten seconds and then dies out electronically]

Announcer:
[Chell solves the puzzle] Great work. Because this message is prerecorded, any observations related to your performance are speculation on our part. Please disregard any undeserved compliments.

Cave Johnson:
Greetings, friend. I'm Cave Johnson, CEO of Aperture Science. You might know us as a vital participant in the 1968 senate hearings on missing astronauts. And you've most likely used one of the many products we invented - but that other people have somehow managed to steal from us. Black Mesa can eat my bankrupt-...

Caroline:
Sir, the testing?

Cave Johnson:
Right. Now, you might be asking yourself, "Cave, just how difficult are these tests? What was in that phonebook of a contract I signed? Am I in danger?" Let me answer those questions with a question. Who wants to make sixty dollars? Cash. You can also feel free to relax for up to twenty minutes in the waiting room, which is a damn sight more comfortable than the park benches most of you were sleeping on when we found you. So! Welcome to Aperture. You're here because we want the best, and you're it. Nope. Couldn't keep a straight face.

Wheatley:
Okay, almost there. On the other side of that wall is one of the old testing tracks. There's a piece of equipment in there we're gonna need to get out of here. I think this is a docking station. Get ready...

[smashes into wall]

Wheatley:
Good news: that is NOT a docking station. So there's one mystery solved. I'm going to attempt a manual override on this wall. Could get a bit technical! Hold on!

[smashes into wall, again]

GLaDOS:
[Chell and GLaDOS exit the elevator to find a harpsichord piece by J.S. Bach playing on the speakers] Oh, no, he's playing classical music.

Wheatley:
[They enter the testing room to hear the sound of pages being turned] Oh, sorry, sorry, sorry; Hope that didn't disturb you too much, there. It was the sound of books - pages being turned. So that's just what I was doing, just reading, uh, books. So not a moron. Anyway, just finished the last one, just now, the hardest one. Machiavelli. Do not know what all the fuss was about - understood it perfectly. Have you read that one?

GLaDOS:
[disdainfully] Yes.

Wheatley:
Yeah, decked it. Well, on with the test! Wished there was more books! But there's not.

Cave Johnson:
All these science spheres are made out of asbestos, by the way. Keeps out the rats. Let us know if you feel a shortness of breath, a persistent dry cough, or your heart stopping. Because that's not part of the test. That's asbestos.

GLaDOS:
Crushing's too good for him. First he'll spend a year in the incinerator. Year two: Cryogenic refrigeration wing. Then TEN years in the chamber I built where all the robots scream at you. THEN I'll kill him.

Cave Johnson:
Just a heads up: we're gonna have a superconductor turned up full blast and pointed at you for the duration of this next test. I'll be honest - we're throwing science at the wall here to see what sticks. No idea what it'll do. Probably nothing. Best-case scenario, you might get some superpowers. Worst case, some tumors, which we'll cut out.

GLaDOS:
Hey, Moron!

Wheatley:
Oh, Hello.

GLaDOS:
All right, Paradox time.

GLaDOS:
[slowly and deliberately] This. Sentence. Is. FALSE.

[to herself]

GLaDOS:
Don't think about it, don't think about it!

Wheatley:
Um, true. I'll go with true. There, that was easy. To be honest, I might have heard that one before.

GLaDOS:
It's a paradox! There IS no answer.

Announcer:
Warning, Neurotoxin reaching dangerously unleathal levels.

[after breaking 2 monitors]

Wheatley:
You know what I have too many of around here? Monitors. I was just thinking earlier today I wish I had fewer monitors that were working. So you're actually helping me by smashing them.

[after breaking 3 monitors]

Wheatley:
To clarify, I was being a bit facetious about wanting to get rid of monitors. They're actually really quite useful. So I do want them around. So if you could avoid smashing them.

[after breaking 4 monitors]

Wheatley:
Yes, alright, okay. This is getting tiresome. I'm surprised you haven't got anything better to do. I know I have. You've proven you can break screens. Proven. Factual. Well done. Good. Aren't you little miss clever. Little miss smashy smash.

[after breaking 5 monitors]

Wheatley:
Does it actually make you feel good when you do that? Because it's not impressive. No one's impressed. It's just glass isn't it. Fragile. A baby could smash one of them. It's not impressive.

[after breaking 6 monitors]

Wheatley:
You know, there are test subjects in Africa who don't even have monitors in their test chambers. Why don't you think of that before you break any more of them?

[after breaking 7 monitors]

Wheatley:
What is this, like a hobby for you now? I mean, honestly, it's crazy! You've been running around for hours. I'm surprised you have the energy to smash screens willy nilly. Honestly, I'd have a little lie down if I were you. Have a nap.

[after breaking 8 monitors]

Wheatley:
It's hard to know, if I'm honest, to wonder if you're doing all this screen breaking on purpose. I'm beginning to actually take it personally. You know what I mean. It's like an insult to me.

[after breaking 9 monitors]

Wheatley:
Oh, there goes another one. They're not inexpensive. I'd just like to point that out. It seem unfair to smash screens. You could give them to people. Instead of smashing them, unscrew them and give them to a homeless person. I don't know what a homeless person would do with one. But you get my point. And you can't unscrew them, they're bolted in. But - just stop it!

[after breaking 10 monitors]

Wheatley:
It's not like I have hordes of replacement monitors just lying around back here in the old warehouse that I can just wheel out and bolt back on. I didn't order in loads of spare monitors thinking some crazy woman was going to go around smashing them all. Sorry if that's my fault. Sorry if I didn't have the forethought to think "oh she might go crazy one day and smash all the monitors instead of just getting on with things". Sorry I didn't think of that.

[after breaking 11 monitors]

Wheatley:
They're not even your screens to break! It's vandalism! It's pure vandalism! You wouldn't do this if it was your house, would you? If I came around to your house smashin' your telly, you'd be furious. And rightly so. Unbelievable.

GLaDOS:
Do you know the biggest lesson I learned from what you did? I discovered I have a sort of black box quick-save feature. In the event of a catastrophic failure, the last two minutes of my life are preserved for analysis. I was able - well, forced really - to relive you killing me. Again and again. Forever. You know, if you'd done that to somebody else, they might devote their existence to exacting REVENGE! Luckily, I'm a bigger person than that. I'm happy to put this all behind us and get back to work. After all, we've got a lot to do, and only sixty more years to do it. More or less. I don't have the actuarial tables in front of me.

GLaDOS:
You know, I'm not stupid. I realize you don't want to put me back in charge. You think I'll betray you. And on any other day, you'd be right. The scientists were always hanging cores on me to regulate my behavior. I've heard voices all my life. But now I hear the voice of a conscience, and it's terrifying... because for the first time it's *my* voice! I'm being serious. I think there's something really wrong with me!

[after Atlas and P-Body place Weighted Cubes on a switch]

GLaDOS:
Weighted Cubes calibrated. No variances detected. Did you know humans frown on weight variances? If you want to upset a human, just say their weight variance is above or below the norm.

Announcer:
Good Morning! You have been in suspension for nine, nine, nine, nine, nine nine...

Wheatley:
Hello?

Announcer:
This courtesy call is to inform all test subjects to vacate the Enrichment Center.

Wheatley:
Are you going to open this door? Because it's fairly urgent.

Announcer:
If the rules of physics no longer apply in the future, then god help you.

Wheatley:
You two are going to *love* this big surprise. In fact, you might say that you're going to love it... to death. Love it... until you're, until it kills you. Until you're dead. [chuckles] Alright? I don't know whether... you're, uh, you're picking up on what I'm saying there, but...

GLaDOS:
[weary] Yes, thanks. We get it.

GLaDOS:
Listen to me. We had a lot of fun testing and antagonizing each other, and, yes, sometimes it went too far. But we're off the clock now. It's just us talking, like regular people. And this is no joke: we are in *deep* trouble.

GLaDOS:
Did you feel that? That idiot doesn't know what he's doing up there. This whole place is going to explode in a few hours if somebody doesn't disconnect him. I can't move, and unless you're planning to saw your own head off and wedge it into my old body, you're going to need me to replace him. We're at an impasse.

Announcer:
Some emergency testing may require prolonged interaction with lethal military androids. Rest assured that all lethal military androids have been taught to read and provided with one copy of the Laws of Robotics. To share.

Announcer:
If the Enrichment Center is currently being bombarded with fireballs, meteorites, or other objects from space, please avoid unsheltered testing areas wherever a lack of shelter from space-debris DOES NOT appear to be a deliberate part of the test.

Cave Johnson:
All these spheres are made of asbestos, by the way. Keeps out the rats. Let us know if you feel a shortness of breath, a persistent dry cough, or your heart stopping. Because that's not part of the test. That's asbestos. Good news is, the lab boys say the symptoms of asbestos poisoning show a median latency of forty-four point six years, so if you're thirty or older, you're laughing. Worst case scenario, you miss out on a few rounds of canasta, plus you forwarded the cause of science by three centuries. I punch those numbers into a calculator, it makes a happy face.

Cave Johnson:
For this next test, we put nanoparticles in the gel. In layman's terms, that's a billion little gizmos that are going to travel into your bloodstream and pump experimental genes and RNA molecules and so forth into your tumors. Now, maybe you don't have any tumors. Well, don't worry. If you sat on a folding chair in the lobby and weren't wearing lead underpants, we took care of that too.

GLaDOS:
Do not plug that little idiot into MY mainframe!

Wheatley:
[to Chell] No, you SHOULD plug that little idiot into the mainframe!

Wheatley:
[about to crush Chell with a spike plate] Holmes vs. Moriarty, Aristotle vs. MASHY SPIKE PLATE!