Billy Quizboy: White! White, I'm being kidnapped by Zeus!
Pete White: That's what I've been telling you. That's why you should eat more fiber.

Hunter Gathers: Good lord, son, there should be a mandatory retirement age for strippers.
Brock: Did you see I got cornered by Robin last night? I almost had to chew off my own arm to get away.
Hunter Gathers: Ohh! That poor woman has the saddest tits. Damn depressing!
Brock: They're, like, The Notebook sad.
Hunter Gathers: Her tits are like "coming home from school and finding out that your old man ran over your cat" sad.
Brock: Mournful. She has mournful tits. They're like two suicide notes stuffed in a glitter bra.
Hunter Gathers: Those things are like a little kid with progeria cracking all his ribs trying to catch a Nerf ball. Just sad. Damn it, she has gloomy tits!
Brock: It's like she put a dollar's worth of change into some old socks and then taped them to her chest.
Hunter Gathers: I want to build two little caskets and give her tits a tasteful, dignified funeral.

Michaelson: Change into these, and proceed to the cavity search.
Hunter Gathers: Cavity search, my ass! (everyone stares) I mean--you know what I mean.

Watch: Now, who's getting the shot?
Phantom Limb: Okay, but you may have to give me the shot in my derriere. Needles can't penetrate my electroimpalpable limbs.
Ward: Needles? Yeah, good one. Try huge spikes. They're wonderful and frightening, and they go into the sides of your neck, and they replace all your blood. You get your blood back at the end of the summit. Unless the "loss of life" thing happens. Then we'll send your next of kin a big jug of blood and a very nice card.