Tom Servo quotes from Mystery Science Theater 3000

Life is like a box of chocolates, Forrest! You never know what you're gonna get!

Servo

[dripping with sarcasm] Oh, "Life is a like box of chocolates"? Well I got a better analogy! "Life is like a crap sandwich! The more bread you got, the less crap you gotta take!" Sheesh!

You're not FBI agents!

How do you know?

'Cause y'all look like door-to-door salesmen.

Yeah, well, you look like Howdy Doody with a headcold.

Welcome back to the MST3K Blockbuster Review, featuring the summer movies, that, thanks to an amendment tacked onto last year's highway bill, we're all required to see.

Servo

Um-hmm.

Mike

Our next one is the Jamie Lee Curtis thriller, Halloween Water, which… I think is about a pumpkin-flavored soft drink or some such thing.

Would you wanna--

No.

Maybe possibly--

No!

Sometime--

No!

Go out for some pizza or something, like… Friday?

Well, oka-- no!

Yeah… I can't.

Saturday?

I can't.

Sunday-Monday-Tuesday?

N-O! Th-the W is silent.

Carol the Waitress, Simon the [audio cuts out]

Servo

Huh? Why did they blank out "former host of Talk Soup"?

The first thing that surprised me on that ride was th--

Was being sucked through a time portal.

I almost felt I hadn't left home, when we passed a big Sears-Roebuck store.

Servo

Ah-heh! 'Cause it's called "Gran Venta" at home, too!

Another familiar site was a used car lot, full of American autos.

I dropped my pants and bent over a car, just to feel at home!

Lake Maracaibo seemed narrow here. But it's actually 60 miles wide at one point, and 120 miles long.

I felt like a complete ass mistaking it as narrow.

I've taken this opportunity to reassess my views on all inland bodies of water.

I wanted nothing more than to throw myself on my hotel bed and cry.

Joel

You know that puppet does his own stunts.

Does he really?

Servo

I personally don't believe that puppets should be on TV.

They've come back. Orson, bring them here at once.

Yes, sir.

What they have seen must never get back to Earth. Bring them here.

[entering the room] There's no need, Lunar Controller. On the assumption that his first note would be rejected and subject to our investigation, the World President authorized me to place you under close arrest, and escort you back to Earth.

Arrest me? You are fools, Earth men. Already a complex is being built. Soon, the Mysterons will come to take over the moon, and then the Earth.

We have seen the complex, and it will be destroyed.

No. You will never leave the moon alive. Any of you.

SID, prepare a Lunar rocket for immediate launch. We are leaving at once for the Earth.

Don't waste your breath.

A Lunar rocket is ready at bay three.

No! SID, this is the Lunar Controller. Seal all exits!

Come on.

Servo

[imitating a seal] Get it? Seal? ... never mind.

SID. I am giving you an order! Orson, seize them!

Let's go!

[standing in front of SID] I command you! SEAL! ALL! EXITS!

Servo

[imitating a seal again]

Joel

Okay, I get it...

It's no good, Lunar Controller, SID cannot identify you.

Servo

I figured you would.

I changed recognition disks with you last night.

[getting desperate] SID! This is the Lunar Controller! Stop them!!! SEAL! ALL! EXITS!

I'm sorry. Your recognition disk cannot authorize that.

Obey! OBEY! SEAL ALL EXITS!

I am sorry. Your recognition disk does not authorize that.

[pointing a gun at SID] This is your last chance, SID! Seal all exits!

I am sorry. Your recognition disk- [Lunar Controller begins to shoot SID repeatedly, causing SID to malfunction catastrophically] I... AM... SORRY...

[continuing to shoot SID repeatedly as an alarm sounds throughout the base] Obey! OBEY!!!

Joel

Alright already!

You know, there was an off switch, dumb-o.

I... AM... SORRY... I... AM... SOOOOORRRRRYYYYY...

Joel

I'm sorry you two had to see that.

It wasn't pretty.

Servo

I'm all choked up.

Mornin', Mike!

Mike

[exhausted] Oh, morning, Gypsy! What have you got for me? [drinks water from the human-scale sized hamster water feeding canister nozzle]

Oxygen-nitrogen mixes within required standards. We are currently at low-orbit over Southern Madagascar, and that wonderful smell, there's a lamb roast I have in the oven.

Mike

[taking the towel from Gypsy and dries his sweat off from his face] And sweet yams?

Affirmative! Oh, and I compiled today's weather service reports! [Mike and Gypsy stroll over to the main desk] Here's a hard-copy! [gives a hard-copy version of the satellite's daily newspaper to Mike, which whom he starts reading] The Cubs lost again.

Servo

[comes out of one of the desk's pothole hatches] Dum-da-dum-dum-dum.... oh, why, hello Mike! Everything working fine on the ol' Satellite of Love, today? Hm? No dangerous problems or horrible mishaps in sight? Hm?

Mike

No, Tom. Everything appears nominal.

Servo

Ah, nominal! Good! Good! So, I guess that means you're not worrying about what that rhythmic pounding might be?

Mike

[listens to the sound/noise] Yeah, what is that?

Servo

Yeah, what is that, hm? I'm a highly sophisicated robot, Mike, and I'm telling you, this is not something you should be hearing. Something's causing this, Mike. Hm? Now, let's think... I'm here, you're here, Gypsy's here....

Mike

Okay, Tom. Where's Crow?

Servo

Where's Crow? Huh. I'm not supposed to say anything, but I did see the little moron headed towards the basement with a pickaxe in his hand!

Mike

[Turning to Gypsy, alerted] Gypsy, go to Condition Yellow! We gotta stop him!

Roger! [familiar Commercial Sign alarm is active]

[singing It's a Long Way to Tipperary] It's a long way to tipperary... [*Thunk!*] To the sweetest girl I know...! [*Thunk!*] Goodbye to Noah Beery... [*Thunk!*] Hello Harold LLOOOOOOYD...! [*Thunk!*]

Mike

[O.S.] Crow!

Huh?

Mike

Crow, listen, you gotta stop!

Oh! Hi, Mike! I found a perfect spot! Once I break through this wall, we'll tunnel our way right back to Earth! [*Thunk!*]

Servo

[hovering down] Crow, you big dope! You can't tunnel through space!

Come, come, boys! We must confound Jerry at every turn! [*Thunk!*] [continues singing]

Mike

[quickly rushes to Crow] Crow, no! You'll breach the hull!

Mike

[quickly rushing to something to hang onto for dear life] WOAAAH! CROOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!!!

Woah, I didn't expect this!

Servo

Attaining.... Maximum RPM.... Adjust pitch and yaw thrusters..... Stabilize! There, that should do it— [gets sucked towards hole] WOOOAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

Wow, this is confusing! Uh, Mike, you wanna hand me my calculations?

Thank you! Wow, look at that: "Breach Hull - All Die"! Even had it underlined! Hah!

Servo

[screaming] WOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAA-AH! OH! OH! I DON'T WANNA DIE! OHHH! MOMMY! MOMMY! AAAHHHHH! I LOVE YOU, MIIIIIIIKE! [*Sproing!*] AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Mike

SERVO!

Mike

[impressed and satisfied] Attaboy, Servo!

I won't do that again!

Servo

Hey, I'm experiencing a sensation altogether new to me, and frankly... I LOVE IT!

Mike

Now, Crow, I told you: no more escape attempts.

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.

Mike

Now, here you go. [pulls Servo off the hole, replacing him wth Crow's helmet that he removed earlier]

Servo

[upsettingly] Aw, darn!

It's time! Dr. F is calling for you!

Ah! Mike! Robots! I'm feeling particularly evil, because today's experiment is a stinky, cinematic suppository called This Island Earth! You may all just bow down before me after this stink-burger! Say, come to think about it, I don't believe you bowed down before me, recently!

Mike

Uh, sure, we have! Last week!

No, no, no. I think that was more of a curtsy of a bow. So, why won't we all just bow down... NOW? [cuts off life support systems]

Mike

Now, see, I don't see the reason why you make us— [starts choking]

[panicking] Bowing, sir!

Servo

[*Dialogue speed not understandable*]

Mike

Okay, Dr. Forrester! Geez!

What a dickweed!

Well, Now that we have our little fun, prepare yourself for... oh, but before I start the experiment, uh, did you... y'know... go?

[dejected] Yes...

Because I don't want to have to stop the movie before... y'know...

You won't...

Then, prepare yourself for This Island Earth! [pulls a lever]

Mike

Oh! We got MOVIE SIGN!

Tennis is a form of war. A violent thing.

I thought it was a burning ring.

And in the middle of it all, the absolute center of attention is this...

Little shorts.

The tennis ball.

Scientific name: Tennius Ballias.

It lives in a hundred-mile-an-hour world.

Servo

Palm Springs?

Contact is extreme. Either brutal, or feather-light.

Like my marriage.

... so how does a ball get that way?

Practice.

How does such utter reliability come to be? When so many are produced, how can each one be so perfect?

Or so white?

The answer comes from machines...

Yaaay!

... and people.

Booo...

Oh...

... and a name. [the camera focuses on the Penn brand] A big one.

Penn!

The Phoenix facility with 100,000 plus square feet under roof is one of four such plants.

Wow.

Each all dedicated to one thing...

Balls!

Making the best tennis balls possible, as perfect as can be. Millions of them.

Servo

Millions of balls!

The other plants are in Jeannette, Pennsylvania, Jonesboro, Arkansas, and in Mullingar, Ireland.

[Irish accent] Ah sure, we like to hit balls back and forth with racquets in Ireland.