[In the middle of a war, after Mrs. Forrester is hit.]
Mrs. Forrester:
(panting) Just what I need!
Bobo:
Medic! Medic!
Observer:
[enter] Here I am!
Mrs. Forrester:
Brain Guy? What the hell is...your...deal?
Observer:
My race is pacifist and does not believe in war. We only kill out of personal spite. We will, however, administer humanitarian aide. (begins attending to Forrester's wound)
Mrs. Forrester:
...what's that smell?!
Observer:
Oh! Mustard gas!
Mrs. Forrester:
Mustard Gas! Get the masks!
Bobo:
Oh, no, that's just me; I ate a whole jar of popnids with my knishes for lunch.
Observer:
Good god, ape...
Mrs. Forrester:
That's it, we're pulling out!
[Clanking sound is heard]
Observer:
Hand grenade!
Bobo:
Grenade! I'll save you! [throws Observer to the ground; the grenade goes off right near him]
Mrs. Forrester:
Bobo, Brain Guy, quit farting around and get in the van! Okay, Nelson, we need air support an we need it fast!
Observer:
[looks up] It's a good thing I don't have a body... [flops back down]
[Back on the SOL, Mike Nelson is pouring baking soda into a bomb casing while Crow and Tom Servo watch on]
Mike Nelson:
Sure, no problem; I used to make these babies in junior high school, out of vinegar and baking soda...
Crow:
I-is that too much baking soda, Mike, or-
Mike:
[ignoring Crow] ...and high school, now that I think of it. And college, too. Got...got expelled for that...
Tom Servo:
D-definitely too much baking soda, Mike.
Crow:
Just a little too much.
[Crow makes a small "Whoa..." as Mike pulls out a much larger box of baking soda and filling the bomb casing with it]
Mike:
And for that temp job I worked on, too...until that one guy in receiving got me fired...
Crow:
Heh, Mike, Mike, honey...the baking soda-
Mike:
[again ignoring Crow]It was just a little prank, but he had to rat out on me, didn't he? Oh, well, I guess some people are just like that...
Tom Servo:
So! Bombs away, Mike!
Crow:
Okay, Mike! Bombs away!
Mike:
Oh! Right... [Mikes walks away with the bomb as Crow and Tom Servo cheer]
Crow:
Bombs away, Mike!
Tom Servo:
Bombs away! [to Crow] Hey, I heard you can make a bazooka out of PVC tubing and a used diaper.
Crow:
Is that so?
[Mike reenters without the bomb]
Crow:
Okay, okay! Hee-hee-hee...
Mike:
There you go, Mrs. Forrester, a little distraction...
Crow:
A little distraction!
[Mike and the bots laugh, and then a huge explosion goes off, knocking the bots off Mike's workstation.]
Crow:
[gets back up] Okay...few things, Mike. First, well, you blew up another planet, obviously; what's that, three for you now?
Tom Servo:
Think so...
Crow:
Second, uh-ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR STUPID, ROTTED SKULL, YOU DUMB MAN?!
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