# Harvester

Harvester is a game from 1996, by DigiFX interactive Inc, released by Virgin Interactive Entertainment (Europe) limited.

## Dialogue

    Stickaroo from the TV station: "Ah, shit! Ah, shit on a stickaroo!"
    Steve: What's wrong with your TV?
    Hank:What do you mean?
    Steve: It's all black and white. Where are the colors?
    Hank: What are you talking about, this TV is brand new! There are no TVs with color on them.
    Steve: But I'm sure I have seen a color TV before...
    Hank: Yeah, sure... stop making up stories.
    Various townspeople: You always were a kidder, Steve!
    Steve: You killed your family?
    Vietnam Veteran: What of it?
    Mrs. Pottsdam: Hello, Steve. Care to stay for some pot roast?
    Mr. Pottsdam: Forget the pot roast, mother! Pot roast isn't for backstabbers. For persecutors! I won't share my meat with him! [eyes bulging] My meat! MY MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!
    Mr. Pottsdam: This town won't be the same without DNA's Diner. Or DNA, for that matter.
[After a spinal cord is found in Stephanie's place]
    Mrs. Pottsdam: Was it... suicide?
    Sheriff Dwayne: Never heard of anyone pulling their own spinal cord out before. Off the record, I'd have to say no. No... all in all, I'd say this was natural causes.
    Steve: [stares at him] Natural causes?!
    Sheriff Dwayne: You can't live without a spinal cord, son. Nothing unnatural about that.
    Priest: Is God a jar of strawberry preserves, a size 12 sneaker, a footlong Hogie, an all-expense paid trip to Brazil, or a NEWWW CARRRRR?!
    Steve: [Choice number 6] None of the above, it's a trick question.
    Priest: Heretic!
[One of the two endings of the game, in which Steve returns to the real world; he sits in his room typing]
    Steve's Real Mother: [peering in] What're you doing, Steve?
    Steve: [deadpan voice] Playing Harvester.
    Steve's Real Mother: That thing? I looked at it the other day. The very thought, breeding serial killers. It's disgusting!
    Steve: It's cool.
    Steve's Real Mother: You'll rot your mind playing games like that... don't you know that people who watch violence become violent themselves?
    Steve: [turns to her] That's bullshit, mom.
    Steve's Real Mother: No it isn't. Why do you think they started cutting the violence out of those... Roadrunner cartoons? [leaves]
    Steve: Roadrunner cartoons? Heh. Roadrunner cartoons? Heheh! Ehahahaha! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
[camera travels into his laughing mouth and down his esophagus, finding a severed finger in his stomach]
    Colonel Buster Monroe: I'll never forget looking back over my shoulder, and seeing that kraut do the can-can with MY LEGS! Still, a few weeks later, with only my compass and a pair of nylons, I made it back to safety. Now the krauts are our friends, and the Commie bastards are our enemies. . . but even so, there's at least one kraut out there that I'll never invite over to Sunday dinner.
    Colonel Buster Monroe: What do you want? Did the Llamas sent you?
    Colonel Buster Monroe: You're right soldier, I'm sorry. Sometimes the intense pain clouds my mind. The Kukaburros start whispering to me about the pretty mangos in the high trees, and I know they can see me. They see all of us! Can't you hear them? Chattering with the Llamas behind our backs. They want our cornflakes, but they won't take the milk!
    Colonel Buster Monroe: The price of Vodka goes through the roof. . . along with the Vodka.
    Colonel Buster Monroe: No one initiates a nuclear holocaust in Harvest except me.
    Hank: This is apart of history... What made America great. And besides, blood n' guts are neato!
    Tetsua Crumb (Wasp Woman): "I am Tetsua Crumb. The ignorant of Harvest call me the Wasp Woman... a pejorative, no doubt, born of their fear and a poverty of imagination.
    Tetsua Crumb (Wasp Woman): Regard the wasp. Wasps produce nothing for others, but only for themselves. Wasps build nests and more wasps, nothing more. They spread into eaves and attics, not to make honey for supermarkets, but to buzz and rustle on their own paper, perpetuating their own agenda, growing, stealthily, surely... the most relentless of insects.
    Tetsua Crumb (Wasp Woman): When a bee stings, it rips itself apart and dies for its audacity. This appeals to those worshipping a God that demands sacrifice and atonement. But the wasp is promiscuous. They are not as sympathetic to the masses because they don't die when they sting. They live to sting another day... and they take pleasure from that
    Tetsua Crumb (Wasp Woman): Yes... a great deal of pleasure... the wasp is a sensual being, not a labourer, hedonistic instead of industrial. Some think them quick to anger... in truth, they are easily swayed to ecstasy... they penetrate your flesh... and the muscular contractions in their thorax as they pump venom could be likened to the muscular contractions of ejaculation... each painful welt... an act of love