I'm off to get a seaweed wrap. –I didn't know they made sushi with dried clams.
Hit me. –What? –Right here. Take your best shot. –I-I'm not going to hit you. –Aw, why? Is your vagina bothering you? –OK, I see what you're doing.
Stop! Your Queen commands you! –Oh, please. You're not fit to be queen of... name a place.
Cyril, you're in command. Try not to kill us. Everybody else, strap in. –Really? –I said 'in' not 'on.' –Oh. –And, ewww.
Don't get me wrong, I'd still do her. –Oh, please. You'd do... name a noun.
Well I hope you're happy. –No, I'm not, mother! I just got... fingered! –Ooh, now that is just... Eww!
Is mutiny funny to you, Mr. Archer? –I don't know. Maybe a mutiny of clowns.
And I won't lie to you. This mission will be dangerous. –Uh, would you say we'd be venturing into a zone of danger? –Well, yes, obviously. –No, but I mean how would you phrase that? –I... The zone will be one of danger? –No, I mean... (sigh) not-- if you'd say that the-- (sigh) Forget it. Never mind. And you never mind and also shut up!
It's not what it looks like. –Well, that's a relief. Because, uh, it looks like you're sitting here with a gun, right? And over there, strapped to a chair and shot to death, is a guy in a full-body latex catsuit! Or am I misreading the situation?! –Well, technically, it's a zentai.
So, we've got a dead Italian Prime Minister in the living room, which-- –Sucks. I bet he knew how to make sauce. –...Which will be hard to explain, especially given the circumstances leading up to his death which were-- –Dildo-ey. –Unseemly. –Eh, potatoe, pa-dildo.