Rob Paulsen credited as playing...
Mortimer 'Morte' Rictusgrin
- Morte: It's called the 'Mortuary'... it's a big black structure with all the architectural charm of a pregnant spider.
- Morte: One time you awoke obsessed with the idea that *I* was your skull and chased me around the Spire trying to shatter and devour me. Luckily, you were crushed by a passing cart in the street.
- Nameless One: Can you speak?
- Ecco: [She shakes her head at you and smiles sadly]
- Morte: I love this chit already!
- Morte: Psst... Some advice, chief; I'd keep it quiet from here on - no need to put any more corpses in the dead book than necessary... especially the femmes. Plus, killing them might draw the caretakers here.
- Nameless One: Why do you care about the female corpses?
- Morte: Wh- are you *serious?* Look, chief, these dead chits are the last chance for a couple of hardy bashers like us. We need to be *chivalrous*... no hacking them up for keys, no lopping their limbs off, things like that.
- Nameless One: Last chance? What are you *talking* about?
- Morte: Chief, THEY'RE dead, WE'RE dead... see where I'm going? Eh? Eh?
- Nameless One: You *can't* be serious.
- Morte: Chief, we already got an opening line with these limping ladies. We've *all* died at least once: we'll have something to talk about. They'll appreciate men with our kind of death experience.
- Nameless One: Wait... didn't you say before that I'm *not* dead?
- Morte: Well... all right, *you* may not be dead, but *I* am. And from where I'm standing, I wouldn't mind sharing a coffin with some of these fine, sinewy cadavers I see here.
- Fall-from-Grace: Morte, what are you again? I don't believe you ever said.
- Morte: Me? I'm *le petit Morte*.
- Morte: C'mon, Chief! We're in a building with some of the sexiest chits this side of the multiverse, and you're stopping to talk to *modrons*?