Tom Corbett, Space Cadet

Announcer:
Space Academy, USA, in the world beyond tomorrow. Here the Space Cadets train for duty on distant planets. In roaring rockets, they blast through the millions of miles from Earth to far-flung stars and brave the dangers of cosmic frontiers protecting the liberties of the planets, safeguarding the cause of universal peace in the age of the conquest of space!

[Strong orders the cadets to evacuate a rescue station before it is destroyed by a volcanic eruption]

Captain Steve Strong:
Thistle, blast out of that hut, will you? You haven't got much time!

T.J. Thistle:
Aye-aye, sir! Yes sir!

[to Tom and Astro]

T.J. Thistle:
I don't know about you guys, but for once, I'm obeyin' orders!

Commander Elblas:
Just what you are you implying, Arkright?

Cmdr. Arkright:
I'm not implying, I'm accusing! I'm accusing you of treason against the Solar Alliance!

Roger Manning:
But why did Bex send us up in this crate for? It doesn't make sense.

Tom Corbett:
It makes a lot of sense, Roger. He couldn't just shoot us down. Why, there'd be too many questons. But who would ever question the crack-up of an old rocket scout? Oh, can't you see Bex? "Commander Arkright, the space cadets just took off without my permission and they lost control and...

[Corbett looks sorrowful and snaps his fingers]

Tom Corbett:
...and that's all. Very regretable incident."

Astro:
Uh-oh. There goes our thrust.

Tom Corbett:
Our inertia will keep us going up for a few minutes.

Astro:
Yeah, but then we'll turn around and fall under the law of gravity. That's still in effect, you know!

Tom Corbett:
It would have been a nice clean accident - no questions.

Astro:
And no answers.

[last lines]

Astro:
Boy am I going to give Bex a sightseeing tour. He's going to see every star in the universe!

Astro:
Tom, I just projected that heading. It will take the scout right into the sun!

Tom Corbett:
Jumpin' Jupiter! Roger, can you plot a course to intercept the scout?

Roger Manning:
I'm ahead of you, pal. I already have.

Tom Corbett:
Good boy. Shoot it down here.

Roger Manning:
Wait a minute, it means we'll be sticking our necks out.

Tom Corbett:
How?

Roger Manning:
We'll be cutting awfully close to the sun ourselves. One mistake and we're french-fried cadets.

Tom Corbett:
Hello, Roger, feed me that heading. I always did want a good sunburn.