John's Arm: Armageddon

Willis:
[voiceover] Grandma says John is a bad influence on me.

John:
Willis. I need your grandma's car. I been drinking Robitussin all day and I'm pretty sure I can drive it with my penis.

Willis:
Grandma says you can't use her car anymore unless she's in it. She doesn't like where you leave the radio tuned.

John:
Box 'er old bones up then, let's go. I needs mo' 'Tussin.

Heartbreaker:
I sure wish there were more people out there like you. Money's been tight. The name "Kap'n Kill-Krazy" doesn't move merch the way it used to. I blame the parents, and their baffling aversion to killing.

John:
Plus, that video game sucked a big drippy.

Heartbreaker:
Christ, don't remind me. I told him to slap his name on the Tetris clone, but did he listen? Hell no.

[pause]

Heartbreaker:
Seventeen different juvenile vehicular homicides, the Times said. Don't think even the All-Seeing Eye saw that coming.

Old Man on Bench:
Hail Satan.

Bonk:
I implore you, sharp ones; heed my tale of danger! I had no choice but to flee Earth! For there, I encountered terrors that make the Vootliff Massacre look like a friggin' toe-tappy tea party!

Horned Councillor #1:
Explain.

Bonk:
There... were... wallopers! And whackers. And zappers! And BITING! Oh... such... biting!

Horned Councillor #3:
Our scanners showed no sign of biters in that sector.

Bonk:
They were... stealth biters! Stealthy... AND bitey!

Kraig Rizzo:
I'm talking way bigger than anatomically correct plastic, my five-fingered friend. I mean themesong ringtones! Charlie Kaufman pens a movie of your life story! Wristwatch ads got Vin Diesel's ass on a marquee, why not yours?

The Mayor:
Jesus eatin' fajitas, Jacobs. Have you been watching too much Bravo?

Bonk:
All yall's my b*tches now.

Lefty:
[after his fake arm falls off] Er,uh... I totally have cancer.