Beldar Conehead: If, for some reason your life functions ceased, my most precious one, I would collapse, I would draw the shades and I would live in the dark. I would never get out of my slar pad or clean myself. My fluids would coagulate, my cone would shrivel, and I would die, miserable and lonely. The stench would be great.
Highmaster: Therefore, you will... NARFTLE THE GARTHOK!
Ronnie: H... hi, Mr. Conehead.
Beldar Conehead: [Peels back the roof of Ronnie's car] I find you unacceptable!
Ronnie: Yes, sir!
Beldar Conehead: If I did not fear incarceration from human authority figures, I would terminate your life functions by applying sufficient pressure to your blunt skull so as to force its collapse!
Ronnie: [Beldar replaces the roof in its original position and walks away] Th... thank you.
Connie: How can it take so long to do a simple alignment on an american sedan with standard rack-and-pinion steering and MacPherson struts When your garage is equipped with the proper Borg-Warner digital hydraulic radiometer?
Ronnie: Maybe because I was out back finishing a beer.
[Connie gulps down an entire sub sandwich]
Ronnie: [impressed] Wow! My Mom's the only other woman I know who can take a sandwich like that!
Connie: [pointing at Ronnie's sub] You going to finish that?
Beldar Conehead: [to Connie after they return to Earth] Your positive perception of me is vital to my existence. Besides, it is not everyday a father can give the world to his child.
Lisa Farber: All men are pigs.
Prymatt Conehead: Ah, pigs. An omnivorous domesticated cloven-hooved vertebrate that defecates in the same place it consumes.
Lisa Farber: Exactly.
Eli Turnbull, INS Agent: If they are in fact aliens from another planet, sir, doesn't that make them Airforce jurisdiction?
Gorman Seedling, INS Deputy Commissioner: If they're just visiting, sure. But the minute they try to work here, they're mine.
Beldar Conehead: Take my car, its re-enforced alloy superstructure is far superior to that of your broken down, rusted out shit box.
Beldar Conehead: An owner's manual to a Ford Lincoln Mercury Sable.
Highmaster: Ford Lincoln Mercury Sable?
Beldar Conehead: A personal conveyance named after its inventor, an assassinated ruler, a character from Greco-Roman myth and a small fur-covered mammal.
Beldar Conehead: When my people come to colonize this planet, your name will be on the protected rolls, and you will come to no harm.
Gladys Johnson, Driving Student: You are wise. But there's a sadness to your wisdom.
Otto: Hey Beldar, got any more of that gum?
Beldar Conehead: Certainly.
[hands him a wrapped condom]
Otto: On second thought, I better not chew and drive.
Beldar Conehead: [Furious to be kept waiting over his car repair] What choice do I have? It is as if you have grabbed me by the base of my snarglies!
Athletic Cone: I have learned much from watching the Garthok battle. It has weaknesses. I believe I can take it.
Beldar Conehead: Uh-huh. And let me know when Elvis gets here.
Prymatt Conehead: He was behaving like a flarndip?
Connie: [Confused] Flarndip?
Prymatt Conehead: A masher, a hustler, an uninvited grasper of cone.
Beldar Conehead: [Overhears this and is irate] FLARNDIP?
Prymatt Conehead: I was a young cone myself once. Before I met Beldar, I was very attracted to a young Thorasian forger. And I far as I was concerned there was no other life force in the universe that mattered. But then he got a job working at a volcano complex on some moon in the Petulaus Cluster. I never saw him again. And it broke my blood valve chamber.
Prymatt Conehead: You know Connie, I read in a magazine that you can talk to me about anything.
Otto: Are you telling me you don't have a social security number?
Beldar Conehead: Correct.
Otto: Why not?
Beldar Conehead: I am an illegal alien.
Connie: I think I'll have some Tang.
Prymatt Conehead: Ah Tang, the drink astronauts took to the moon.
Beldar Conehead: Astronauts to the moon?
[Beldar and Prymatt laugh]
Ronnie: Yeah, my grandfather's from the "Old Country".
Connie: Oh really, which one?
Ronnie: I'm not sure. One of the big ones.
Prymatt Conehead: When the High Master hears of the destruction of our ship, he will be most displeased.
Beldar Conehead: Affirmative. He will surely cut off my plargh and hand it to me.
Prymatt Conehead: Uuuugh!
Beldar Conehead: [Spotting a tattoo on Connie's head] What have you done to your cone?
Beldar Conehead: No? Turn around!
[turns her head]
Beldar Conehead: NYAAAHH!
Connie: Ehhhh! It's not a real tattoo.
Beldar Conehead: Mebs! Mebs! Unacceptable!
Connie: It's just a decal; everyone's wearing them.
Beldar Conehead: If everyone jumped into a bituminous cauldron, would you jump in too?
Connie: I am not a little cone anymore, Dad!
Beldar Conehead: Maintain low tones with me! Maintain low tones! Now, you are to go to the hygenic chamber and remove it! Also, you are wearing far too much lip and cheek enhancement.
Connie: Mom - ! My makeup looks okay, doesn't it?
Beldar Conehead: Do not involve the approval of your other parental unit. Now, if you wish to accompany me to the enclosed retail compound, you will go to the hygenic chamber upstairs immediately, and REMOVE THE DECAL!
Beldar Conehead: [Catching Ronnie and Connie together] NYAAAAHHH! Senso-rings? Where did you get those?
Connie: Under your bed?
Beldar Conehead: Unacceptable! Your cone is too young!