Lots of choc’lates for me to eat,
Lots of coal makin’ lots of 'eat.
Warm face, warm 'ands, warm feet,
I want a party with roomfuls of laughter
Ten million tons of ice cream
And if I don’t get the things I am after
I’m going to scream
Stop pressurin’ me
Just stop pressurin’ me
Stop pressurin’ me
Make me wanna scream
You know, you talk like we ain’t gonna get away with this.
It’s your great ideas that got us into this mess. I never want to hear another one of your great ideas. Ever!
Hey, don’t you tell him to shut up! You’d all be dead now if it wasn’t for my David!
They say that David is no longer David.
If I am not me, then who the hell am I?
I’m just a mean, green mother from outer space, and I’m bad!
I am Spartacus!
I just want to tell you, I’m the one who was supposed to take care of everything. I’m the one who was supposed to make everything okay for everybody. It just didn’t work out like that.
I just want to tell you both good luck, were all counting on you.
The blue wire! It’s always the blue wire!
Uh, Roger? GRAB THE CAT!
C’mon Roger, let’s go home. I’ll bake you a carrot cake.
This sad dessert is emblematic of Carl Casper’s disappointing new chapter.
Happy Birthday.
You know, I have one simple request. And that is to have sharks with frickin’ laser beams attached to their heads!
It’s a Sicilian message. It means Luca Brasi sleeps with the fishes.
I suffer from short-term remembory loss.