Memorable quotes for
The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T. (1953) More at IMDbPro »

Dr. Terwilliker: Is it atomic?
Bart Collins: Yes sir, VERY atomic!
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Mrs. Collins: The work for the happy finger method must go on.
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Bart Collins: I don't think the piano is my instrument.
Dr. Terwilliker: What other instruments are there, pray tell? Scratchy violins, screechy piccolos, nauseating trumpets, et cetera, et cetera?
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Bart Collins: See? Now do you believe me?
Mr. Zabladowski: We should always believe children. We should even believe their lies.
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Dr. Terwilliker: "the idiotic cock-eyed flum-dummery"
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Mr. Zabladowski: I am no cog; I don't even like the sound of it. I am an independent contractor.
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Elevator operator: [Dungeon elevator song] First floor dungeon/Assorted simple tortures/Molten lead, chopping blocks and hot boiling oil/Second floor dungeon/Jewelry department/Leg chains, ankle chains, neck chains, wrist chains, thumbscrews and nooses of the very finest rope/Basement dungeon/EVERYBODY OUT!
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Mr. Zabladowski: [to Bart] Get me a shot of that pickle juice! If those twins want a fight on skates, I'll give 'em one!
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Dr. Terwilliker: [singing] I want my lavender spats!
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Bart Collins: How much are you being paid overtime?
Mr. Zabladowski: Two thousand pastoolas.
Bart Collins: Two thousand WHAT?
Mr. Zabladowski: Two thousand pastoolas. Dr. Terwilliker doesn't pay me in American money - he keeps that for himself. He pays me in pastoolas.
Bart Collins: What are pastoolas?
Mr. Zabladowski: If you must know, the currency here is a little strange. First of all, in the small money comes the drakmids. At the regular, normal rate of exchange, there are 59 drakmids to one silver zlobeck.
Bart Collins: "Zlobeck"?
Mr. Zabladowski: Three silver zlobecks make one golden kratchmuk. A pastoola normally is, uh, 44,000 kratchmuks. But these, they tell me, are not normal times...
Bart Collins: Pastoolas, kratchmuks... How much do you get American?
Mr. Zabladowski: Precisely twenty bucks. Show me a better job, and I'll take it.
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Bart Collins: [singing "Because We're Kids"] Now just because we're kids, Because we're sort of small, Because we're closer to the ground, And you are bigger pound by pound, You have no right, you have no right, To push and shove us little kids around... Now just because your throat has got a deeper voice, And lots of wind to blow it out, At little kids who dare not shout, You have no right, you have no right, To boss and beat us little kids about... Just because you've whiskers on your face to shave, You treat us like a slave... So what? It's only hair. Just because you wear a wallet near your heart, You think you're twice as smart. You know that isn't fair... But we'll grow up someday, and when we do I pray, We won't just grow in size and sound, And just be bigger pound by pound... I'd hate to grow, like some I know, Who push and shove us little kids around.
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