That would be like releasing the tiger from its cage.
Don’t be bitter, surely with your ever growing collection of flesh mutilating silver appendages and your brand new neo-nazi boot camp makeover the boys will come a-runnin’.
OK, you want to wrap it up? Or you want to just stand around here, try to guess my real name?
You’re U.S. Government property. You’re a malfunctioning $30 million weapon. You’re a total goddamn catastrophe, and by God, if it kills me, you’re going to tell me how this happened.
Don’t be mad, I will formally apologize when I’m not fending off a Hammeroid attack.
Hulk smash!
I’m always angry.
Alright, I’m going to need for you to retard your anger level a few notches and listen to me, can you do that?
I can, I can. It’s nothing. It’s nothing.
I should have seen this coming. I should have known that under this all, these past years you’ve been building your hate for me piece by piece. I don’t even know who you are because you have none of me in you, you’re someone else’s. This anger, your maliciousness, backwards dealings with me. You’re an orphan from a basket in the middle of the desert. And I took you for no other reason than I needed a sweet face to buy land. Did you get that? Now you know. Look at me. You’re lower than a bastard. Mmm-hmm. You have none of me in you. You’re just a bastard from a basket.
Mammy! Don’t you know me? It’s your little baby!
Don’t tell me Mr. Wonderful is back?
And now, the star of our show, the kamikaze of comedy! Fasten your seat belts, put on your crash helmets; because here he comes… Mr. Saturday Night… Buddy Young, Junior!
Nice helmet.
WHAT? You went over my helmet?
You’ll never get anywhere treating your helmet like a lunchbox, son.
Hey Phil check it out, he’s got a banana on his helmet.
Hi I’m Paulie the Penis. And I just love to have fun. Ha Ha Ha.
My one and only noble point may be found in my bodily appendage, whom I will consult democratically as he is rather whimsical.
Phil, why weren’t you like this last night? You just fell asleep.