A superlative suggestion, sir, with just two minor flaws. One: we don't have any defensive shields, and two: we don't have any defensive shields.
They've taken Mister Rimmer! Sir, they've taken Mister Rimmer!
Well, what do you do when you want to have sex?
You make love like a Japanese meal.
We don't eat curry every night, if that's what you think.
Thomas Allman, you have been found unworthy of having existed.
That is the Inquisitor: he prunes away the wastrels, expunges the wretched and deletes the worthless.
I have to ask the question: justify your existence. What contribution have you made?
That's your plan? We go out there and face him? Nice plan.
Give you five? I can do better than that.
Something is crawling up my leg.
Sir, a couple of brief points. Firstly, you are not a qualified service engineer and, consequently, sawing me in half will invalidate my guarantee.
We are interlopers inside Mister Rimmer's mind.
Well, we go right at the Swamp of Despair, straight past the Wood of Humiliation and then hard left at the Chasm of Hopelessness.
Self loathing? I don't loathe myself. What is there one could possibly loathe about me?
A: we don't have any jet-powered rocket pants and B: there's no such thing as jet-powered rocket pants outside the fictional serial 'Robbie Rocketpants'.
Die like the dog you are, Mistrust!
We're a real Mickey Mouse operation, aren't we?
Hello, my name is Doctor Hildegard Lanstrom and I am quite, quite mad.
Sexual magnetism is a virus?
Don't correct me. You know how much I hate being corrected.
I have a medium sized fire axe buried in my spinal column.
What are we going to do to them, Mister Flibble?
Gentlemen, history beckons. You'll be famous, they'll build your statues, they'll even name towns after you.
Rude alert! Rude Alert! An electrical fire has knocked out my voice recognition unicycle. Many wurlitzers are missing from my database. Abandon shop.
Buddy, there is no way you are part of me.
The poor wretch. He has a faulty gun. he has accidently shot me five times.
Nice movie collection: 'Revenge of the Mutant Splat Gore Monster'.
We were ambushed by a platoon of Lows. I was leading a valiant rearguard action.
Why would a haddock kill itself?
There are only three alternatives: it thinks we're either a threat, food or a mate.
What the Hell's happened to my teeth?
And if those pen-pushers up at city hall don't like it, well, they can park their overpaid fat asses on this mid-digit and swivel.
Be a government informer. Betray your family and friends.
The Cat lost his cool and life no longer had any meaning for him, because he is so mind-meltingly shallow.
Quiz Playlist
Details
Clickable: Select answers by clicking on text or image buttons
In order to create a playlist on Sporcle, you need to verify the email address you used during registration. Go to your Sporcle Settings to finish the process.
Comments