Biker Mice from Mars

Lawrence Limburger:
Activate the transport. Set it for the lowest, the vilest, the most disgusting team of twisted evil enforcers Plutark ever produced.

Dr. Karbunkle:
Not the smurfs!

Lawrence Limburger:
Dismiss those small-timers from your mind.

Modo:
Oh mama, the last thing I need is a sedated smart mouth.

Vinnie:
Well, if it ain't the degenerate duo.

Modo:
Sleaze-brain and sludge.

Throttle:
Let's have a looky see here. Nope, nope, nothin' nada zippo, just as white as a Osmond in a snowstorm.

Throttle:
Be true to your teeth or they'll be false to you.

Modo:
Sorry Doc, you're going into practice, target practice.

Vinnie:
Nap time over? It must be time to visit the little boy's room. I hope I'm not too late!

Throttle:
This preacher's throwing heat.

Throttle:
Cheap shot... but it felt good.

Throttle:
You're not a lawyer.

Modo:
No, but I've seen every single episode of L.A. Law three times.

Lawrence Limburger:
If my word was worth anything, I wouldn't be much of a villain, now would I?

Throttle:
Be true to your teeth or they'll be false to you

Throttle:
Guys, le'me tell you something. In this wild and woolly universe of ours, there are only three things you can count on: your brains. Your bros'. And your bike!!

Throttle:
In this crazy universe, there's only three things you can rely on, your brains your bros and your bike