Luke: Well, I guess I'll go bulls-eye some womp rats in my T-16.
C-3PO: My God, you shoot small animals for fun? That's the first indicator of a serial killer, you freak!
Luke: There's two suns and no women. What the hell am I supposed to do?!
C-3PO: My God, you shoot small animals for fun? That's the first indicator of a serial killer, you freak!
Luke: There's two suns and no women. What the hell am I supposed to do?!
"I-I can't believe it, Don Octavio flooded that aquarium with tar... all those poor dead fish!"
—Bentley Turtle, Sly 3: Honor Among Thieves
Snake, a link between cruelty to animals and antisocial criminal behavior was established a long time ago. If you keep on killing animals for no reason, we will be forced to conduct a thorough psychological review upon your return.
—Rosemary, Metal Gear Solid 4: Guns of the Patriots
Then arose Thorondor, King of Eagles, and he loved not Melko; for Melko had caught many of his kindred and chained them against sharp rocks to squeeze from them the magic words whereby he might learn to fly (for he dreamed of contending even against Manwë in the air); and when they would not tell he cut off their wings and sought to fashion therefrom a mighty pair for his use, but it availed not.
A solemn gorilla turned the handcrank of a barrel organ. A monkey in a sailor suit performed a jerky hornpipe. The apeman's chest board proffered an art nouveau invitation to the Théâtre des Horreurs. His partner – face shaved and powdered so that at first you might take it for a human child - wasn't happy. The monkey's arms were folded like a jolly tar's, sewn together at the elbows and wrists. The stitches were fresh. Tiny spots of blood fell. The creature's tail was docked too. It wasn't dancing, but throwing a screaming fit to music.
A busker who so mistreated a dumb animal in London would be frogmarched by an angry crowd to a police station, though he could do worse to a real child and have it taken all in good fun.
By the time it attained its mistress' bed, my first victim had fairly frozen stiff. It died soon thereafter. When the girl attended her chores the next day, her eyes were red and vacant. A few soft words of empty kindness brought her to my bed without hesitation. From the wetness of her nether-parts and the blood that flowed from them, I learned why wolves smile in the night.
You see, as the water fell upon that cat, as the warmth of her mistress spread itself across my bitter skin, the Lex Praedatorius screamed itself into my skull. This world, you see, is filled with claws and bellies, with those who hold the blade and those who turn their throats to its edge. Until that night, I had felt apart from my own kind, cold as a fortress but with a furnace within; that furnace leapt into a blaze when I embraced the blade of cruelty. Such wonders I beheld then! Such powers as would make gods tremble on their thrones! Compared to them, the trifling plays of men are naught but shadows.
You see, as the water fell upon that cat, as the warmth of her mistress spread itself across my bitter skin, the Lex Praedatorius screamed itself into my skull. This world, you see, is filled with claws and bellies, with those who hold the blade and those who turn their throats to its edge. Until that night, I had felt apart from my own kind, cold as a fortress but with a furnace within; that furnace leapt into a blaze when I embraced the blade of cruelty. Such wonders I beheld then! Such powers as would make gods tremble on their thrones! Compared to them, the trifling plays of men are naught but shadows.
—Mage: The Sorcerer's Crusade - Infernalism
The tiny white mosaic tiles at the edge of the pond, slimed with blood and guts; and Yulian slimed, too, his face and hands sticky with goo. Cross-legged by the pond like a buddha, Yulian, the frog like a torn green plastic bag in his inexpert hands, slopping its contents. And that child of – of innocence? studying its innards, smelling it, listening to it, apparently astonished by its complexity.
—Necroscope II: Wamphyri
Once again Cox and his cronies have been discharging their pistols at the dolphins, against all decency and the common laws of the sea. Many God forgive him, because no righteous sailor will. Indeed, I suspect in this case even the Almighty will find his mercy overly strained!!!
—Captain Roberts, Nation
Young Vaughn, he ain't got the Quiet, he's got the other thing. He thinks he's got the Quiet, Billy, and that's as well. Because the truth is, he's got the Screaming, and Richard knew it. He opened that poor monkey like it weren't even a clutch purse, and he snapped that fox without a thought, and the whole thing as if he was making porridge.
—Billy Friend's dad, Angelmaker
"Well, there was a bit of a fracas, as we say, and it turned out that a man had a dog, a half-dead thing, according to bystanders, and he was trying to get it to stop pulling at its leash, and when it growled at him he grabbed an ax from the butcher's stall beside him, threw the dog to the ground and cut off its back legs, just like that. I suppose people would say 'Nasty bugger, but it was his dog,' and so on, but Lord Vetinari called me in and he said to me, 'A man who would do something like that to a dog is a man to whom the law should pay close attention. Search his house immediately.' The man was hanged a week later, not for the dog, although for my part I wouldn't have shed a tear if he had been, but for what we found in his cellar."
— Watch Commander Sir Samuel Vimes, Snuff
<What are you doing?!> Jake roared.
<Um ... urn ... I guess this eagle's brain kind of took over for a minute,> David said. <l can't believe I just did that! That poor bird! I just lost control.>
It was possible. It was hard, sometimes, to control the animal you'd morphed. So it was possible that's what had happened. The others certainly bought it. Cassie comforted him. But I have an instinct for lies. Maybe it's because I can lie pretty well when I need to. I know a lie when I hear one. David had killed that crow. Deliberately. In cold blood. For absolutely no reason.
—Marco, Animorphs #20: The Discovery
After a second, Anthony returned his attention to the rat. It had already devoured its tail, or at least chewed it off—for Anthony had made it bite faster than it could swallow, and little pink and red furry pieces lay around it on the green grass. Now the rat was having trouble reaching its hindquarters.
But Valentine knew. She had seen a squirrel half-skinned, spiked by its little hands and feet with twigs pushed into the dirt. She pictured Peter trapping it, staking it, then carefully parting and peeling back the skin without breaking into the abdomen, watching the muscles twist and ripple. How long had it taken the squirrel to die? And all the while Peter had sat nearby, leaning against the tree where perhaps the squirrel had nested, playing with his desk while the squirrel's life seeped away.
At first she was horrified, and nearly threw up at dinner, watching how Peter ate so vigorously, talked so cheerfully. But later she thought about it and realized that perhaps, for Peter, it was a kind of magic, like her little fires; a sacrifice that somehow stilled the dark gods that hunted for his soul. Better to torture squirrels than other children. Peter has always been a husbandman of pain, planting it, nurturing it, devouring it greedily when it was ripe; better he should take it in these small, sharp doses than with dull cruelty to children in the school.
At first she was horrified, and nearly threw up at dinner, watching how Peter ate so vigorously, talked so cheerfully. But later she thought about it and realized that perhaps, for Peter, it was a kind of magic, like her little fires; a sacrifice that somehow stilled the dark gods that hunted for his soul. Better to torture squirrels than other children. Peter has always been a husbandman of pain, planting it, nurturing it, devouring it greedily when it was ripe; better he should take it in these small, sharp doses than with dull cruelty to children in the school.
"The daring daylight escape of the two convicted murderers, dope-pushers, and rapists cost the lives of two prison guards, and surprisingly, the life of a German Shepard. According to eye-witness reports, the animal, which was set after the two fleeing men, was kicked to death by a young animal-like woman who leaped from the get-away car."
—Newscaster, The Last House on the Left
"Nicolas, if you don't come out here right now, I'm gonna go in there and I'm gonna skullfuck that fucking rabbit!"
—Remington Rashkor, Easter Bunny, Kill! Kill!
Turns out one of the cops in his hometown is a boy I about carried through basic back in the day, and he remembers Gern. 'Oh, yeah, Sarge,' he tells me. 'Gern used to get into trouble when he was a boy, 'cause he’d go out in the fields with the cows. Not to tip them. He’d stand next to them with his daddy’s straight razor and make these long, thin, cuts. Farmers would catch him and tan his hide, but he never cared much.'
Oh, I kept an eye on him through basic. Not close enough, though. He’s still listed AWOL, but I read about those murders in Lansing last year, those people found dead with those long cuts down their backs. I figure cows just got too boring for him.
Oh, I kept an eye on him through basic. Not close enough, though. He’s still listed AWOL, but I read about those murders in Lansing last year, those people found dead with those long cuts down their backs. I figure cows just got too boring for him.
—Drill Instructor W. E. Naylor, US Army (Ret.), Hunter: The Vigil: Slasher
"Only the scum of the earth would take their aggression out on weak, innocent animals."
— Yuuki Mishima, Persona 5 Royal
"The doctor tells me your fever has gotten worse. They say this infection may kill you. Even if it doesn't, my doctor tells me again and again that you may never wake. And yet, I wait. I grew up quite poor. We lived in the hills. In a place my brothers built from things they found. Metal sheeting, plywood. When it rained, it smelled like hay. We were always hungry. But there was a lucuma tree. Scrawny. Barely alive. My family had given up on it years before. Never bore fruit. When I was seven, I became fixated on it. I watered it, tended to it. It took a long time, but the buds grew into green fruit. I was so proud. I didn't tell anyone. I plucked one and hid behind our shack. I ate the whole thing, I'd never tasted something so sweet. It was like caramel. At first, we ate the fruit ourselves. And then I began taking it to the village to sell. One day, much of the fruit was gone from my tree. Pieces were scattered on the ground, half-eaten. I thought it was probably a coati. Have you ever seen one? About the size of a large house cat. Opportunists. I built a snare, using branches and wire. It didn't take long for the animal to set it off. But the coati trashed so hard it broke out of the snare. Broke its leg as well. I tried to grab it, but it slipped away. It ran under the house. I knew it would show itself sooner or later. So I waited, for hours, into the night. When my brothers called for me, I did not answer. I didn't make a sound. I was so still. Finally, it came out. It knew I was there, but it was hungry. This time, I was ready. I caught it. It fought me, but I was stronger. The merciful thing would've been to kill it. I kept it. It lived for quite some time. I believe you will wake, Hector."
—Gus Fring, Better Call Saul
"It was just a fucking—"
—Iosef Tarasov, as he's shot to death by John Wick for pointlessly killing his dog, John Wick
When I was younger
just a bad little kid
My momma noticed funny things I did
Like shootin' puppies with a BB gun
I'd poison guppies and when I was done
I'd find a pussy cat and bash in its head!
just a bad little kid
My momma noticed funny things I did
Like shootin' puppies with a BB gun
I'd poison guppies and when I was done
I'd find a pussy cat and bash in its head!
—Orin Scrivello, performing Dentist, Little Shop of Horrors
"I hurt animals because I'm SICK!"
— Random Girl chasing a mutt with a bunch of hot dogs, Drawn Together ("Wooldoor Sockbat's Giggle-Wiggle Funny Tickle Non-Traditional Progressive Multicultural Roundtable!")
Schwartz and Hans, the two elder brothers, were very ugly men, with overhanging eyebrows and small, dull eyes which were always half shut, so that you couldn't see into THEM and always fancied they saw very far into YOU. They lived by farming the Treasure Valley, and very good farmers they were. They killed everything that did not pay for its eating. They shot the blackbirds because they pecked the fruit, and killed the hedgehogs lest they should suck the cows; they poisoned the crickets for eating the crumbs in the kitchen, and smothered the cicadas which used to sing all summer in the lime trees. They worked their servants without any wages till they would not work any more, and then quarreled with them and turned them out of doors without paying them.
"He had an awful lot of awful things to say about Morgoth — apparently, way back in the very old days, he was busy capturing ordinary hawks and eagles and trying to figure out how their wings worked...by cutting them off and using them as patterns for machines." [she shivers, her expression dismayed at the idea — and shared by everyone else, regardless of political alignment] "They really want him punished quite badly."
— Luthien, A Boy, a Girl and a Dog: The Leithian Script
Ethical Bug: Y-Y-You're not gonna shoot a puppy, are you, Jack?
Jack Horner: Yeah. In the face. Why?
"Well, go, Miss Kasady! All dog murderers deserve death! Even if they're eight!"
—Boomstick, DEATH BATTLE!, regarding Cletus Kasady's mother
Producer: Must've been tough to write a villain that's just instantly despicable.
Screenwriter: Actually, it was super easy. Barely an inconvenience.
Producer: Oh, really?
Screenwriter: You see, I developed this strategy that causes instant hatred in audiences. Check this out.
(the Screenwriter shows the Producer a drawing of a puppy)
Producer: Aww, a puppy!
Screenwriter: Uh-huh, uh-huh…
(the Screenwriter begins punching into the drawing)
Producer: …I'll kill you.
Screenwriter: Actually, it was super easy. Barely an inconvenience.
Producer: Oh, really?
Screenwriter: You see, I developed this strategy that causes instant hatred in audiences. Check this out.
(the Screenwriter shows the Producer a drawing of a puppy)
Producer: Aww, a puppy!
Screenwriter: Uh-huh, uh-huh…
(the Screenwriter begins punching into the drawing)
Producer: …I'll kill you.
"Carl. Uh, I don't really know that much about Carl. Oh! Loves animals. Always dragging home some poor stray he found, taking them up to his room."
—Frank Gallagher about his son Carl Gallagher, Shameless (US) (1x01)
