2047: Sights of Death

Colonel Asimov:
Coogan?

Sergeant Coogan:
Sir?

Colonel Asimov:
Aren't you cold?

Sergeant Coogan:
No sir.

Colonel Asimov:
Are you not afraid your dick will freeze? Your fly is open. Can you fix it?

Major Anderson:
Yes, and taking advantage of the area's already high radiation levels, Delilah can also detect recent organic traces.

Lobo:
You're not exactly the smartest tool in the shed, are you?

Colonel Asimov:
Major, are you willing to die for this mission? Then, read my lips; permission denied. And stop being so [sighs] sexy.

Lobo:
Why didn't you throw Blondie in the tunnel right away? She'd be dead already and we wouldn't have to worry about it now, there'd be no more fuss. Turned in to an abscess, you know, the girl, the daughter of your, your buddy. It's like a bad toothache now. Like a rotting tooth in my f***in' head with three roots. Yeah.

Ryan Willburn:
You seem like a different man now.

Colonel Asimov:
And you sound like a fortune cookie.

Ryan Willburn:
And that sounds like the morality of a well trained guard dog. Is that what you spew to your victims before you just dump them in mass graves, like some kind of death lullaby?

Colonel Asimov:
You must be a psychic visionary.

Sponge:
Scrooge was right. Ron Hubbard was right. Charlie Manson was right. The Viagra folks were right. And so were the people behind the Club Mediterranee.