Vincent: Pansy, look at me.
Pansy: Yes, Vincent.
Vincent: Do you... do you... love me?
Pansy: Of course I love you.
Vincent: You... you don't mind the thing... on my... on my nose.
Pansy: Oh you mean your.
Vincent: Yes, my.
Pansy: No, darling... of course I don't mind.
Vincent: You could get used to have a chap around the house with a... with a... with a damn thing on his nose.
Pansy: Of course, my love. Everyone has something odd about them. Why I've got an enormous.
Evil: Show me... show me, subscriber trunk dialing. I must know everything.
Wally: I'm sorry I killed you, Fidgit.
Evil: Stand by for Mind Control.
Kevin: It's some kind of invisible barrier.
Fidgit: Oh, so that's what an invisible barrier looks like.
Evil: God isn't interested in technology. He cares nothing for the microchip or the silicon revolution. Look how he spends his time, forty-three species of parrots! Nipples for men.
Evil: Slugs! he created slugs! They can't hear. They can't speak. They can't operate machinery. Are we not in the hands of a lunatic?
Randall: We made trees and shrubs. We helped make all this.
Kevin: Whew! That's not bad.
Randall: Yeah. But did we get a thimble full of credit for it? No! All we got was the sack. Just for creating the Pink Bunkadoo.
Kevin: Pink Bunkadoo?
Randall: Yeah. Beautiful trees that was. Og designed it. 600 feet high, bright red, and smelled terrible.
Pansy: Oh, you don't have to wear the "special "?
Vincent: No, no, no, I don't have to wear the "special." Anymore.
Evil: Oh, Robert, Benson! I feel the power of evil coursing through my veins, filling every corner of my being with the desire to do wrong! I feel so bad, Benson.
Benson: Good! Good.
Evil: Yes, it is good, for this is the worst kind of badness that I'm feeling.
Vincent: Oh no. The problem. The problem, Pansy! It's started again.
Pansy: Oh! Oh, don't worry, darling.
Vincent: Ohhh... ohhh.
Pansy: I say.
Vincent: I must have fruit.
Evil: Suddenly, I feel very, very good.
Robert: Oh, I'm sorry, Master.
Evil: No, it'll pass, it'll pass.
Kevin: What are we going to do here?
Wally: A robbery.
Kevin: A robbery?
Fidgit: Of course. We're international criminals. We do robberies.
Randall: Shut up.