Funny: A Scanner Darkly

  • After about a half page of discussing the homemade silencer, and how that friend likely had some secret compartment to hide the gun for just when he needs it, complete with a locking mechanism and other doodads, Arctor's inner monologue reveals he has his service weapon in a much more devious hidden place, where nobody will ever find it: his glove compartment.
  • Charles Freck's suicide attempt. Nuff said. (Beware the multi-eyed eight-foot-high being with the endless scroll!)
    • Who will be reading you your sins in shifts throughout eternity!
  • The argument about how a 21-speed bicycle works, leading the drug-addled characters to determine that someone stole eleven gears from it.
    • It gets even more confused when Freck thinks he sees one more gear than the rest do. Then two less. Then two more again.
  • Barris is going to find out who's got something against Arctor. How? He's set up a a microphone to start recording when someone comes through the front door. To increase the chance that intruders will enter via the front and not another way, he's left a note on the door saying that it's unlocked. Arctor and Luckman are shocked and not even sure whether he's being serious or not.
    Barris: Of course I'm kidding! Only a psychotic would do that, leave the front door of the house open with the door unlocked and a note on the door.
    Barris:...I wrote, "Come on in, the door's unlocked."
  • The homemade silencer, which just makes gunshots even louder. So much so that Arctor is startled awake by the gunshot and grabs his gun.
  • Barris taunting a skittish Freck by speaking in a strange language and voices.
  • ...which was preceded by a silly Are You Pondering What I'm Pondering? between Barris, Luckman and Arctor:
    Barris: How much does this Impala weigh?
    Arctor: A thousand pounds with passengers and a full tank of gas.
    Arctor: Twelve.
    Arctor: No, that's eleven in the back and the driver sitting alone up front. All the weight in the wheels is to keep the car from fishtailing.
    Luckman: What are we talking about, twelve fifty-pound passengers?
    Arctor: Kids soccer team.
    Luckman: Is that metal or plastic cleats?
    Arctor: Metal... for safety.
    Barris: OK, my computations are complete, you are just huckletweet and you are just bugbyte squared.
    Luckman: What kind of bug?