Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Movie
1996
Dr Forrester: Oh, who doesn't own an interositer these days?
Joe Wilson: If there is any reason around here. Tom Servo: What with all the shenanigans and goings-on.
Joe: You know what my kids would say? Crow T. Robot: YOU'RE NOT MY REAL FATHER?
(as Cal and Joe assemble the Interositor) Crow T. Robot: Science and Industry! Tom Servo: See big men sticking screw drivers into things - turning them - AND ADJUSTING THEM! Crow T. Robot: Build your very own Atom Storage Box! Mike: Bringing you state-of-the-art in soft-serve technology! Crow T. Robot: Removes lids off bottles and jars of all sizes - and it really, really works.
Tom Servo: Suddenly I have a refreshing mint flavor.
Crow T. Robot: Into the weenie mobile, weenie man away!
Mike: Joe, I'm in one of these boxes, find me!
Crow T. Robot: Puppet wranglers? There weren't any puppets in this movie.
Tom Servo: Crow you big dope, you can't tunnel through space!
Crow T. Robot: Hey! Who sneezed on the credits?
Crow T. Robot: Man, the universe is really cruisin'. Tom Servo: Hey, look, there's Taurus the bull. Mike: And right underneath him the constellation feces. Crow T. Robot: Hey, look, Orion's broke.
Dr Forrester: I'm feeling particularly evil because today's experiment is a stinky cinematic suppository called "This Island Earth." You may all bow down before me after this stinkburger.
Crow T. Robot: They're forcing him to visit Branson, Missouri.
Dr Forrester: Hello, and welcome. I'm Dr Clayton Forrester, and soon you will all bow down before me.
(Everyone is being sucked into the vacuum of space) Crow T. Robot: Hey, Mike, you think you can toss me my calculations? Thanks! Ah, here it is. "Breach Hull - All Die." Even had it underlined.
Cal Meecham: Check rate of radioactive decay. Crow T. Robot: Increase the Flash Gordon noise and put more science stuff around!
(as Tom Servo reads the opening credits:) Tom Servo: Okay, let's see here... Shatner, Shatner... no, doesn't look like he's in this one; we're safe.
Exeter: I beg your pardon, Mr Wilson, your camera will pick up nothing but black fog. Tom Servo: Oh, it's a Goldstar.
(Inside the environmental tubes) Crow T. Robot: Wow this must be what its like inside a bong! Whehue!
(after breaching the hull in an escape attempt) Crow T. Robot: Well believe me, Mike, I calculated the odds of this succeeding versus the odds I was doing something incredibly stupid... and I went ahead anyway.
Tom Servo: They're escaping under cover of afternoon in the largest car in the county!
Tom Servo: Self cleaning mutant. Leaves only the fresh scent of pine.
Tom Servo: Space, the final frontier, these are the voyages of Babylon 5.
Tom Servo: It's the amazing technicolor cheese wedge!
Mike: Washingtonland, the new Disney theme park.
Crow T. Robot: He's flown into a Flemish painting.
(Dr Forrester holds a photo of Mike Nelson) Dr Clayton Forrester: This is my test subject, Mike Nelson - a disgustingly mild-mannered dope who's managed to survive every film I've subjected him to. But, perhaps, this movie will drive him to the breaking point and crush his soul. And then I'll unleash it on an unwitting public, and then I will rule the world! (Laughs maniacally and spanks himself with the photo) Yes, I'm a naughty boy! Naughty! Naughty! Naughty!... Oh, ahem.
Dr Clayton Forrester: Say, come to think about it, I don't believe you bowed down before me recently. Mike: Sure we have - last week. Dr Clayton Forrester: No, no, no, I think that was more of a curtsey than a bow. So why don't we all just bow down now? Mike: I don't see any reason to make us... (suddenly kneels, choking) Crow T. Robot: (scared) Bowing, sir! (Tom bows and prays to Dr Forrester, speaking in tongues)
Tom Servo: Ah, they're going 65, so they'll be there in 3 BILLION years...
Tom Servo: Captain's log: a bunch of our ship fell off, and, nobody likes me.
Tom Servo: Captain's log: I've lost my toupee and girdle, and I can't leave my room!
Crow T. Robot: (gazing at the stars) I feel so insignificant... then again, I ALWAYS feel insignificant.
Tom Servo: Wow, that ringing! Now he knows what the world sounds like to Pete Townshend!
Tom Servo: This isn't shot day-for-night. It's more like 4: 30-for-5: 15.
Exeter: Now place your hands above the rail (hands suddenly attach to the rail) ... they're magnetized. Crow T. Robot: And if your hands were metal, that would mean something.
Tom Servo: I'm experiencing a sensation altogether new to me, and frankly I love it!
Crow T. Robot: C'mon! Give Uncle Scrotor a hug!
Tom Servo: Oh, they're flying into a Roger Dean album cover. Crow T. Robot: They're very into Yes on this planet.
Crow T. Robot: (as ship descends into fantastic Metaluna landscape) Looks like Dr Seuss designed their planet! Tom Servo: Oh, they're flying into a Roger Dean album cover. Crow T. Robot: They're very into "Yes" on this planet. Tom Servo: Hee hee! Mike: International flights always get the gate furthest from the terminal. Tom Servo: Remember, we're parked in the "Denubrian Slime Devil" lot!
Cal Meecham: (after German scientist comments on Mozart at dinner) What do you think of Mr Mozart, Exeter? Exeter: I'm afraid I don't know the chap. Tom Servo: "I'm not an alien!" Exeter: My mind must have been wandering. Your composer, of course. Cal Meecham: *Our* composer - he belongs to the world! Exeter: Yes, indeed. Mike: "I'm not an alien." Cal Meecham: That dinner, Exeter, was even more perfect than you promised. Now if you'll excuse me, I could do with some fresh air myself. Crow T. Robot: He's gonna get high! Cal Meecham: Would you care to join me, Dr Adams? Tom Servo: "Uh, no!" Cal Meecham: You, Dr Carlson? Mike: "Your turn to walk the Cal." Exeter: Why don't you? Show him the grounds. Crow T. Robot: "I dare ya!" Exeter: We won't start cracking the whip on Meecham until tomorrow. Tom Servo: "Then I ram my ovipositor down your throat, and lay my eggs in your chest! But I'm *not* an alien!"
(after Mike damages the Hubble) Crow T. Robot: Aaaaaaaahhhhhh! Tom Servo: Don't *do* that!
Tom Servo: (Zagon bomb explodes en route to thought-transference chamber) "Golly, those doggone Zagons are really licking us, huh! Well, let's go get your brains scrambled... "
Exeter: (a MutAnt blocks their path to escape) He appears badly hurt - stay close to me. Tom Servo: *Ahem* "Guten Tag! Zigaretten? Wir wollen ein Auto mieten!"
Exeter: They're concentrating all their attention on Metaluna. Those flashes of light - they're meteors. Hundreds of them! The intense heat is turning Metaluna into a radioactive sun. The temperature must be thousands of degrees by now. Crow T. Robot: Cooler by the lake. Exeter: A lifeless planet. And yet... Tom Servo: Rents are reasonable! Exeter: Yet, still serving a useful purpose, I hope. Yes... a sun, warming the surface of some other world - giving light to those who may need it. Mike: "Still, your whole family died. That's a bummer, huh?"
Benkitnorf: (the crew catches Benkitnorf in the shower on Tom Servo's interositer) Man, you guys scared the living daylights out of me! Mike: It's working! Hey! Hi, is Exeter there? Benkitnorf: Nah, him and Brack went down to Headbutt Days for Shelly. I gotta meet 'em in the beer tent in about fifteen minutes, so I gotta get going, 'kay? Tom Servo: No, wait! We're trapped in space! Can we use this thing to get back to Earth? Benkitnorf: I don't know. Geez... let's see, maybe this does something... (pushes button, zapping Servo) Crap. That's not it. Hang on... (gets manual) Okay. Did you use the Intensifier Disc? All: Yes. Benkitnorf: Turn the controls 18 degrees to the left? All: Did that. Benkitnorf: Are you in Europe? Do you need an adapter? All: No. Benkitnorf: Well, look. I don't know anything about this thing. Maybe this does something... (pushes button, zapping Servo again) Oops. That didn't work. Okay, well I'll be sure to tell Exeter to give you a call! Bye!
Crow T. Robot: (as Joe comes down the stairs) This is a job for "Weenie man!"
Crow T. Robot: (as Ruth) Oh, Carl. Tom Servo: (as Cal) Er, Cal. Crow T. Robot: (as Ruth) Oh, Cal.
Mike: Geez, Dr Forrester! Crow T. Robot: What a dickweed!
Crow T. Robot: The secret government Eggo Project!
(one of the aliens is firing on the humans) Crow T. Robot: Eat my photons, small heads!
Mike: Boy, the landlady's gonna be mad. Tom Servo: Are you boys cooking up there? Mike: No. Tom Servo: Are you making an interositor? Mike: No!
Carl Meecham: Relocation? To where? The Monitor: To your Earth. Exeter: A PEACEFUL relocation... Crow T. Robot: After the genocide, of course.
(Watching the credits, Eastman productions comes up) Tom Servo: EASTMAN! He came from the east, to do battle with the amazing RANDO!
Crow T. Robot: Don't leave me with the Germans!
(as Brack watches the interositer) Crow T. Robot: and now it's time for The Brack Show! Da da da-da-da DA! It's the Brack show! Staring me, I'm Brack!
Crow T. Robot: Shall I compare thee to a summers daaaaaaaa...
Tom Servo: See, all rights are reserved, Callahan. Mike: (in a Clint Easwood voice) Yeah, but what about the rights of that little girl?
(upon seeing that there is no one flying the plane) Mike: I'm your pilot, Claud Rains. Your co-pilot, Harvey the Rabbit.
Tom Servo: If not satisfied with this movie, please return unused portion for a full refund.
(as Exeter's flying saucer catches fire) Crow T. Robot: "Service engine soon" I wonder what that's all about.
(as Exeter's flying saucer crashes) Tom Servo: Oh, don't mind me, I'm just a weather balloon! Mike: Just some swamp gas.
Mike: Putting the men's room in the tower, what was I thinking?
Crow T. Robot: You killed the Hubble!
Mike: This is when science didn't have to have any specific purpose.
Crow T. Robot: Oh, my god! My waffle! Oh the humanity!
Tom Servo: Let go of my hand, Joe!
Tom Servo: This Island Earth can be yours IF the price is right!
Tom Servo: Sort this, deliver that, I'll make them all pay.
Tom Servo: Hope you like cyanide!
Tom Servo: I could've sworn we parked at the... Oh shit!
Mike: So they worship the ever-lasting gobstopper?
Mike: I'm just gona drop you at the north pole, that okay?
Tom Servo: Well what kind of shit-hole planet is this?
Gypsy: Uh uh! No way! This is your dishwashing liquid! You soak in it!
Crow T. Robot: G.I. Joe action set. Nerdy Joe not included.
Mike Nelson: Doesn't the fact that it's universal make it international?
Mike Nelson: (as the Universal-Internation Presents credit comes up) Doesn't the fact that it's universal make it international?
Crow T. Robot: (as Cal beats a MutAnt in the head) Oh, I'm very vulnerable there! Oh, there go the piano lessons! I can't remember my dad!
(as entire mountain explodes) Tom Servo: That's what happens when you leave a potato in the microwave!
(alien spaceship catches plane in tractor beam) Mike Nelson: I'm beginning to think they're not from around here. Tom Servo: No, I bet you they're English, or Canadian.
Tom Servo: Come on, you couple of single-stomach, micro-cephalic bilobes.
Crow T. Robot: I'm gonna curl up in his sock drawer, and sleep for days.
Plane Voice: Good morning, Dr Meecham. Tom Servo: Good morning, Voice. Plane Voice: Hope you slept well. Mike Nelson: 'Cause it's time to die.
(as Joe is talking, Cal ruffels through his desk) Crow T. Robot: Where's my gun?
Dr Cal Meecham: I hope you tax payers don't mind. All: We do!
Plane Voice: Please be seated, Dr Meechum. And welcome aboard. Mike Nelson: (imitating the Plane Voice) You're being kidnapped by The Light FM!
Tom Servo: Left, right, left... Left, right, left... Ouch! A door.
Dr Clayton Forrester: Wait help, auntie Em! Auntie Em! SUPRIIIIISE! Like who doesn't own an intirositor you collective heads of knuckle? Now get back in the theater you ninny-hammers! And remember, I know who you are, and I saw what you did. Now scat! (manically laughing) I'M THE GOD! I'M THE GOD!
Dr Clayton Forrester: Prepare yourselves for my maddest madness yet!
Crow T. Robot: (on the Mu-tant) Nuts! It's Ted Kennedy in a Barney suit!
Exeter: I won't ask you to condone what we've done... All: We condone it.
Crow T. Robot, Mike, Tom Servo: NORMAL VIEW! NORMAL VIIEEEEW!
Crow T. Robot: (as a crewman pushes a lever) This oughta kill them!
(Cal and Joe are looking in an interositer catalog) Joe Wilson: Here's something my wife could use in the house... Crow T. Robot: A man? Joe Wilson: ... an interositer incorporating an electron sorter. Cal Meecham: She'll probably gain twenty pounds while it does all the work for her. Tom Servo: Cal, you bitch!
Dr Cal Meecham: "Complete line of iterociter parts, incorporating greater advances than hitherto known in the field of electronics." What exactly is an iterociter? Joe Wilson: I don't know, and I don't want to know. Crow T. Robot: Just love me!
Dr Cal Meecham: This isn't paper. It's some kind of metal. Crow T. Robot: Uh, no, that's paper, sir.
Exeter: Into the converter tubes. Ruth, you take the first tube. Cal, you take the second. Cal Meecham: What about you? Exeter: I'll take the third tube. Tom Servo: (as Cal) Oh, right. Stupid question.
(seeing the desolate, war-ravaged surface of Metaluna) Mike: This must be what went on in Salvador Dali's head.
Mike Nelson: The Jetsons 2: After the Armageddon.