- Don't dare move a muscle,
just this afternoon I had an extra $200,000.
I gave it to the two best hit men west of the Mississippi.
- Oh, yeah, right.
- You know, I don't exactly know how to feel about all this.
- For real, yo.
While thing felt kinda shady, you know,
like morality wise?
- [Badger] Totally.
- How do you feel now?
- Better.
- Yeah, definitely improving.
- What do you think all those sparkles and shit are?
Transporters are breaking you apart, man,
down to your molecules and bones,
they're makin' a copy.
That dude who comes out on the other side?
He's not you, he's a color Xerox.
- So you're telling me
every time Kirk went into the Transporter,
he was killing himself?
- Dude, yo, why do you think McCoy
never likes to beam nowhere?
'Cause he's a doctor, bitch.
Look it up, it's science.
- I ever tell you about my "Star Trek" script?
The Enterprise is five parsecs out of Rigel XII.
Nothing's goin' on, neutral zone is quiet,
the crew is bored, so they put on a pie-eating contest.
They're eating blueberry pies--
- [Skinny Pete] Better.
- As fast at the replicator can churn them out.
(imitates machine beeping)
Okay, Spock always wins these things.
- How is Spock gonna been Kirk, yo?
Spock's like a toothbrush,
look at Kirk, he's got room to spare.
- Spock has total Vulcan control over his digestion.
You wanna hear this or not?
- [Skinny Pete] Yeah, yeah, go.
- Okay, but Chekov, you see,
he's got whole fat stack of quatloos riding on this
and he has figured out a way to win.
He's got Scotty back in the Transporter Room
locked in on Chekov's stomach.
Every time Chekov eats a pie,
Scotty beams it right out of him.
- Where's he sending them, the toilet?
- Space! - Oh!
- There's blueberries just floating out there,
Scotty's in the Transporter Room fiddling with the levers
when Lieutenant Uhura comes in
and she's got, you know, her big pointies
and Scotty's fingers are all sweaty.
- No!
- Chekov screams,
he sprays blood out of his mouth,
Scotty beamed his guts into space!
- No way!
- Hey man, where are you goin'?
You're missin' the best part.
- What's the point of bein' an outlaw
when you got responsibilities?
- Darth Vader had responsibilities.
He was responsible for the Death Star.
- True that, two of them bitches.
- So, how's it sellin'?
- I sold a teenth.
- One teenth?
That's it?
- [Badger] Yeah.
- To who?
- Him.
I could so use a brain transplant right now.
Wake up, bitch!
(Skinny Pete screams)
(performing classical music on piano)
(strums guitar badly)
We sound great!
- Check out that crystal size, yo.
If that bitch was any bigger it'd be a Jolly Rancher!
- Be my guest.
(Badger exclaims)
- Woo!
River dance!
- Hey, hey, stop markin' up my floor dumb ass, come on.
- Bow before me.
- Wow.
- I am Lord of the Dance.
- Left 4 Dead, yo.
The way them bitches get all cranial
when you cap them in the head,
it's like, booyah!
- Okay, Call of Duty: World at War, zombie mode,
now that's the bomb, man.
Think on it, bro,
they're not just zombies,
they're Nazi zombies.
- What difference does it make
what their job was when they was livin'?
- Dude, you are so historically retarted.
Nazi zombies don't wanna eat you
just 'cause they're craving protein.
They do it 'cause,
they do it 'cause they hate Americans, man.
- I played the game bro,
they aint exactly fleet of foot.
I'm sayin' where's the challenge?
At least the zombies in Left 4 Dead
clock a respectable 40,
you gotta lead 'em and shit.
- Dude, that's 'cause they're not even zombies,
they're just infected.
They got like this rage virus,
amps 'em up they been smokin' the schwag.
Totally unfair to compare the two.
(hoover passes by)
Did that just happen?