Michael J. Nelson: Mike Nelson
Cal Meecham : [after German scientist comments on Mozart at dinner] What do you think of Mr. Mozart, Exeter?
Exeter : I'm afraid I don't know the chap.
Tom Servo : "I'm not an alien!"
Exeter : My mind must have been wandering. Your composer, of course.
Cal Meecham : *Our* composer - he belongs to the world!
Exeter : Yes, indeed.
Mike : "I'm not an alien."
Cal Meecham : That dinner, Exeter, was even more perfect than you promised. Now if you'll excuse me, I could do with some fresh air myself.
Crow T. Robot : He's gonna get high!
Cal Meecham : Would you care to join me, Dr. Adams?
Tom Servo : "Uh, no!"
Cal Meecham : You, Dr. Carlson?
Mike : "Your turn to walk the Cal."
Exeter : Why don't you? Show him the grounds.
Crow T. Robot : "I dare ya!"
Exeter : We won't start cracking the whip on Meecham until tomorrow.
Tom Servo : "Then I ram my ovipositor down your throat, and lay my eggs in your chest! But I'm *not* an alien!"
[as Cal and Joe assemble the Interositor]
Crow T. Robot : Science and Industry!
Tom Servo : See big men sticking screw drivers into things - turning them - AND ADJUSTING THEM!
Crow T. Robot : Build your very own Atom Storage Box!
Mike : Bringing you state-of-the-art in soft-serve technology!
Crow T. Robot : Removes lids off bottles and jars of all sizes - and it really, really works.
Benkitnorf : [the crew catches Benkitnorf in the shower on Tom Servo's interositer] Man, you guys scared the living daylights out of me!
Mike : It's working! Hey! Hi, is Exeter there?
Benkitnorf : Nah, him and Brack went down to Headbutt Days for Shelly. I gotta meet 'em in the beer tent in about fifteen minutes, so I gotta get going, 'kay?
Tom Servo : No, wait! We're trapped in space! Can we use this thing to get back to Earth?
Benkitnorf : I don't know. Geez... let's see, maybe this does something...
[pushes button, zapping Servo]
Benkitnorf : Crap. That's not it. Hang on...
Benkitnorf : Okay. Did you use the Intensifier Disc?
All : Yes.
Benkitnorf : Turn the controls 18 degrees to the left?
All : Did that.
Benkitnorf : Are you in Europe? Do you need an adapter?
All : No.
Benkitnorf : Well, look. I don't know anything about this thing. Maybe this does something...
[pushes button, zapping Servo again]
Benkitnorf : Oops. That didn't work. Okay, well I'll be sure to tell Exeter to give you a call! Bye!
Mike Nelson : [as a Postman delivers a letter] Sort this, deliver that, I'll make 'em all pay.
Exeter : They're concentrating all their attention on Metaluna. Those flashes of light - they're meteors. Hundreds of them! The intense heat is turning Metaluna into a radioactive sun. The temperature must be thousands of degrees by now.
Crow T. Robot : Cooler by the lake.
Exeter : A lifeless planet. And yet...
Tom Servo : Rents are reasonable!
Exeter : Yet, still serving a useful purpose, I hope. Yes... a sun, warming the surface of some other world - giving light to those who may need it.
Mike : "Still, your whole family died. That's a bummer, huh?"
[upon seeing that there is no one flying the plane]
Mike : I'm your pilot, Claud Rains. Your co-pilot, Harvey the Rabbit.
Mike Nelson : [as the Universal-Internation Presents credit comes up] Doesn't the fact that it's universal make it international?
Mike : Crow!
Crow T. Robot : [stops swinging pick-axe] Huh?
Mike : Crow, listen, you've gotta stop!
Crow T. Robot : Oh, hi, Mike! I've found the perfect spot. Once I've breached through this wall we'll tunnel our way right back to Earth. URG!
[returns to swinging pick-axe]
Crow T. Robot : Crow, you big dope! You can't tunnel through space.
Crow T. Robot : [British accent] Come, come, boy. We must confound Gerry at every turn!
Mike : Joe, I'm in one of these boxes, find me!
Mike : Yeah, let's slip awayy under cover of afternoon in the biggetst car in the county!
Crow T. Robot : [as ship descends into fantastic Metaluna landscape] Looks like Dr. Seuss designed their planet!
Tom Servo : Oh, they're flying into a Roger Dean album cover.
Crow T. Robot : They're very into "Yes" on this planet.
Tom Servo : Hee hee!
Mike : International flights always get the gate furthest from the terminal.
Tom Servo : Remember, we're parked in the "Denubrian Slime Devil" lot!
Mike : This is when science didn't have to have any specific purpose.
Cal Meecham : [Struggling with the controls of his jet] I have no control...
Mike : I keep eating and eating.
Plane Voice : Please be seated, Dr. Meechum. And welcome aboard.
Mike Nelson : [imitating the Plane Voice] You're being kidnapped by The Light FM!
Mike : Washingtonland, the new Disney theme park.
Dr. Clayton Forrester : Say, come to think about it, I don't believe you bowed down before me recently.
Mike : Sure we have - last week.
Dr. Clayton Forrester : No, no, no, I think that was more of a curtsey than a bow. So why don't we all just bow down now?
Mike : I don't see any reason to make us...
[suddenly kneels, choking]
Crow T. Robot : [scared] Bowing, sir!
[Tom bows and prays to Dr. Forrester, speaking in tongues]
Mike : Putting the men's room in the tower, what was I thinking?
Mike : So they worship the ever-lasting gobstopper?
Mike : I'm just gona drop you at the north pole, that okay?
Mike Nelson : Doesn't the fact that it's universal make it international?
[seeing the desolate, war-ravaged surface of Metaluna]
Mike : This must be what went on in Salvador Dali's head.
Mike Nelson : The Jetsons 2: After the Armageddon.
Mike : Eat at Joes Eat At Joes, Eat at Joes
Mike : Raspberry world. For all your raspberry needs.
Exeter : [Hammy] Stand back... I command you, stand back!
Mike : ACTING!
Mike : [as Cal, after Cal & Ruth's plane is beamed into the spaceship] If I don't miss my guess, I think this has something to do with those white-haired fellows.
Cal Meecham : [reading from the iterociter handbook] Iterociter incorporating planetary generator. Iterociter with voltarator. With astroscope.
Mike Nelson : [as Cal turns the book sideways] Saaaay, Miss Interociter!
Mike Nelson : [as Cal and Ruth are captured, as Cal] I just know they're going to probe my anus.
[on approaching the planet Metaluna]
Mike : Eww, it's Michael Stipe's head!