I love this planet! I’ve got wealth, fame, and access to the depths of sleaze that those things bring. The alien mothership is in orbit here. If we can hit that bullseye, the rest of the dominoes will fall like a house of cards. Checkmate. I meant ‘physically’. Look, perhaps you could let me work for a little food? I could clean the floors or paint a fence, or service you sexually? Kif, I have mated with a woman. Inform the men.
I don’t ‘need’ to drink. I can quit anytime I want! What are their names? Eeeee! Now say “nuclear wessels”!
Oh, I don’t have time for this. I have to go and buy a single piece of fruit with a coupon and then return it, making people wait behind me while I complain. Yeah, lots of people did. In our darkest hour, we can stand erect, with proud upthrust bosoms.
Soothe us with sweet lies. We’ll need to have a look inside you with this camera. Well, let’s just dump it in the sewer and say we delivered it. Tell her she looks thin. Shut up and get to the point! Hello Morbo, how’s the family?
Bender, being God isn’t easy. If you do too much, people get dependent on you, and if you do nothing, they lose hope. You have to use a light touch. Like a safecracker, or a pickpocket. Oh God, what have I done? Or a guy who burns down a bar for the insurance money! Oh yeah, good luck with that. Oh right. I forgot about the battle. I am Singing Wind, Chief of the Martians.