Tucker:
I'm sorry, what? It's kind of hard to hear you over the sound of your constant team killing.

Church:
Me and Tucker will go through the teleporter, and cut him off at the pass! Tucker, you ready?

Tucker:
There is no way I'm going through that thing.

Church:
Tucker, we don't have time for this! Why would they give us a teleporter if doesn't work?

Tucker:
I don't know! Why would they give us a tank that nobody could drive?

Church:
We already tested the teleporter, remember?

Tucker:
We threw rocks through it!

Church:
And? So? The rocks came out the other side, didn't they?

Tucker:
Yeah, but they were all hot, and covered in black stuff.

Church:
So this is what this is all about - you're afraid of a little black stuff.

Tucker:
Yes, I am. I am afraid of black stuff.

Simmons:
Sarge, we need to get Donut airlifted out of here.

Sarge:
Could you put that in a memo and entitle it "Shit I Already Know'?

Tucker:
You shot Church, you team-killing fucktard!

Simmons:
Hey, sir, you really should ground yourself before handling that card.

Sarge:
How come?

Simmons:
Because static could damage the card.

Sarge:
C'mon. That's an urban legend used to sell those stupid bracelets. And I suppose pop rocks and soda are going to make my stomach blow up!

Sarge:
Yeaow!

Simmons:
Sir! I won't say I told you so, sir!

Church:
I can't believe I actually died for this war.

Sarge:
Anyone... want to guess... why I gathered you here... today?

Grif:
Uh, is it because the war's over and you're sending us home?

Sarge:
That's exactly it, Private. War's over. We won. Turns out you're the big hero. We're gonna hold a parade in your honor. I get to drive the float. And Simmons here is in charge of confetti!

Grif:
I'm no stranger to sarcasm, sir.

Sheila:
Now that you've mastered driving the M808V, let's move on to some of the safety features.

Caboose:
No! No, wait! Go back! Why are there six pedals if there are only four directions?

Simmons:
Do you ever wonder why we're here?

Grif:
One of life's great mysteries isn't it? Why are we here? I mean, are we the product of some cosmic coincidence? Or is there really a God, watching everything. You know, with a plan for us and stuff. I don't know man, but it keeps me up at night.

Simmons:
What? I mean why are we out here, in this canyon.

Grif:
Uh... Oh... Yeah...

Simmons:
What's all this stuff about God?

Grif:
Uh... um... Nothing.

Caboose:
I should've known. She didn't like me. Girls... never... like me.

Tucker:
Caboose, I don't think anybody likes you.

Caboose:
I like me.

Church:
So how are you doing Caboose? Are you following any of this whatsoever?

Caboose:
I think so. That guy Tex is really a robot... and you're his boyfriend. So that makes you... a gay robot.

Church:
...Yeah. That's right. I'm a gay robot.

Tucker:
You know what? Forget what I said before. We can *definitely* pick up chicks in this thing. Probably two or three chicks apiece.

Church:
Oh man, listen to you. What are you going to do with two chicks?

Tucker:
Church, women are like Voltron. The more you can hook up, the better it gets.

Church:
You know what? I could blow up the whole goddamn world with this thing.

O'Malley:
Ha ha ha ha ha, yes! This place will do nicely for an evil lair! It's diabolically designed.

O'Malley:
Quiet, you fool.

Lopez:
I just want my own room. I hate sharing with the vacuum.

O'Malley:
Hello? Is anyone home? Don't be alarmed. We're only here to kill you and take all your possessions. Excellent! No doubt our very presence has scared everyone away, mwa ha ha ha ha ha ha!

O'Malley:
Oh, shut up.

Lopez:
It could have mold.

O'Malley:
Both of you shut up! We're moving in and that's final. It has machine gun turrets, two living quarters with ample closet space, and a short commute to my secret laboratory. It's perfect!

Lopez:
We have no children.

O'Malley:
Resale value? Our plan is to rule the world, not make prudent investments!

Lopez:
It's important to have a fallback plan.

Tucker:
All my life I've had girls tell me, "Not if you were the last man on Earth'.

Tucker:
Well, that may be true, but let's see what happens when I'm the last man on Earth with a sweet ass, pimped out ride, bitch!

Tucker:
Church, it hasn't been the best holiday, but I think I found the perfect gift for you. Merry Christmas buddy.

Church:
I thought we agreed not to get each other anything this year.

Tucker:
No we didn't.

Church:
Oh. Well, maybe I'm mistaken.

Tucker:
Mistaken? You specifically told me to get you something.

Church:
I did?

Tucker:
You gave me a catalogue with stuff circled in it.

Church:
Huh, doesn't ring a bell.

Tucker:
You set a budget for us, between 300 and 350.

Church:
Oh well, I guess its just one of those things.

Tucker:
Fuck you, I'm keeping it.

Church:
Tucker, isn't Christmas the season of giving... Holy shit blue Santa.

Tucker:
Where?

Tucker:
Aww crap.

Tucker:
Do you guys ever get anything done, or do you just stand around and talk all day?

Grif:
We don't get paid enough to do stuff.

Tucker:
Hey Church, if your body is the Red Team's old droid, and droids usually fix stuff, can't you just activate your repair sequence and fix Sheila?

Church:
Huh... well, yeah, it's worth a shot I guess. Ahem, all right, stand back. Hrrrrrhhh...! Hnnnnggg...! Gmmmmmm...!

Tucker:
Anything?

Church:
Yeah, it's not as easy as you'd think it would be.

Tucker:
Maybe there's a button on you somewhere.

Church:
See what you can find. I'll keep trying from in here. Hrrrrrrhh... oh, hey!

Tucker:
Found it?

Church:
Ah, no, wait. All I found was the time and temperature function. It is currently twenty-six degrees, by the way.

Tucker:
What? It's not twenty-six degrees out here, that's freezing!

Church:
Celsius, Tucker.

Tucker:
Come on dude, Celsius sucks.

Donut:
Sabotage? That doesn't sound too good.

O'Malley:
I will devour their hearts and crap out their souls!

Donut:
That sounds even worse.

O'Malley:
I agree. Except replace the word "non' with "extremely', and after the word "violent' include the phrase "blood explosion extraordinaire'.

O'Malley:
They will all taste oblivion! Which tastes like Red Bull! Which is disgusting.

Church:
Thanks for the support Grif. Way to be a team player.

Grif:
Hey, I've got to think about myself here.

Church:
There's no "I" in team Grif.

Grif:
Yeah, there's no "U" either. So I guess if I'm not on the team and you're not on the team, then nobody's on the goddamned team! The team sucks!

Grif:
Uh, hey Donut?

Donut:
What?

Simmons:
Um, about your armor...

Donut:
What about it?

Simmons:
How do I put this? Your armor is... um... it's a little... um... Grif, uh, you want to help me out here?

Grif:
It's pink! Your armor is frickin' pink!

Simmons:
Yeah, that's it.

Simmons:
Pink.

Grif:
Guess what? They already have a color for lightish-red. You know what it's called? Pink.

Church:
Because it's the flag, man! You know... it's the... its The Flag! It's... Tucker, you tell him why the flag is so important.

Tucker:
Well... it's... it's complicated. The... it's blue, we're blue...

Church:
It's just important, okay? Trust us.

Grif:
Why are you talking so slow? He understands us just fine. Maybe you should try listening slower.

Church:
OK, then. We agree to the terms? You first, and then we send over the Medic.

Sarge:
Get on with it, Grif.

Grif:
Ugh. I would just like to let everyone know that I suck.

Church:
And?

Grif:
And that I'm a girl.

Church:
What else?

Grif:
And I like ribbons in my hair, and I want to kiss all the boys.

Sarge:
This may be the best surrender of all time.

Caboose:
So I say to the guy, How're you going to get the tank down to the planet? And he goes, I'll just put it on the ship. And I go, if you've got a ship that can carry a tank, why not just put guns on the ship and use it instead?

Simmons:
Seriously, though. Why are we out here? As far as I can tell, it's just a box canyon in the middle of nowhere. No way in or out.

Grif:
Mm-hm.

Simmons:
The only reason that we set up a Red base here is 'cause they have a Blue base over there. And the only reason they have a Blue base over there is 'cause we have a Red base here.

Grif:
Yeah. That's because we're fighting each other

Simmons:
No, but I mean, even if we were to pull out today, and they were to come take our base, they would have two bases in the middle of a box canyon. Whoop-dee-fuckin' doo.

Grif:
What's up with that, anyway? I mean, I signed on to fight some aliens. Next thing I know, Master Chief blows up the whole Covenant armada, and I'm stuck in the middle of nowhere. Fighting a bunch of Blue guys.

Donut:
Let's make a break for it!

Grif:
Whew! In that case, let's go on three. That's worked well for me in the past.

Donut:
OK, you count.

Grif:
Fine. But don't look at me while I count, because I get nervous.

Grif:
One...

Grif:
Two...

Grif:
That son of a bitch. He beat me at my own game. Curses!

Sarge:
All right, Blues. First off. We want your flag...

Simmons:
Wait, wait, wait. Wait just a second. The last time we got the flag, the chick in the black armor showed up.

Sarge:
...to stay right where it is. Keep the flag. But we do want our mechanized droid guy back.

Church:
Uh-oh.

Sarge:
You may know him as Senor El Roboto.

Tucker:
Well, Church? What's it going to be?

Church:
No way. I'm not giving back my body. I just got this thing.

Sarge:
And don't think you can keep his nuts! Or bolts, or other... mechanical parts.

Church:
Uh, he's not here anymore!

Tucker:
Yeah, he left! He was all like "Sayonara!" And then he just took off!

Church:
That's not Spanish, you idiot. That's French.

Caboose:
But I don't want to be dead. I want to be alive. Or a cowboy.

Church:
Then she beat Jimmy to death with his own skull.

Tucker:
What? That doesn't seem physically possible.

Church:
That's exactly what Jimmy kept screaming.

Pvt. Jimmy:
This doesn't seem physically possible!

Caboose:
AI? What's the ?A? stand for?

Church:
Artificial.

Caboose:
Ah. What's the?

Church:
Intelligence.

Caboose:
What's the ?A? again?

Sarge:
What's making all that noise up there?

Caboose:
You are not going to like it...

Donut:
Wow, that's great! I like the glowing part. Ooh, does it make cool noises when you swing it?

Tucker:
I don't think so. No, wait, is "whoosh" a noise? Because if it is, then yes. It goes, "Whoosh whoosh, whoosh, wsh wsh, wsh-ch-ch, chw chw, whsh-chsh, chsh-chsh-chww, whshhh, sh-sh-shing!, fring!, whshhh, whww".

Tucker:
See?

Donut:
And you found that in a hole?

Tucker:
Yeah, dude, I was just walking along, following Tex... not really paying attention, you know. I fell in some hole. And, ah, Tex didn't help me out, she figured she was better off without me, and that's where I found this.

Donut:
You know, most people would tell that story in a way that makes them sound a little better.

Tucker:
Yeah, but, you know, that's not really my style.

Church:
You don't know anything about the aliens who programmed you?

Church:
You mean humans.

Church:
Why, what you they call us?

Church:
That's an insult, isn't it?

Church:
Who's there?

Church:
You are who?

Church:
All right, what does it mean?

Church:
Um... a skunk. Wait, so shisno means skunk?

Church:
Yes...

Church:
Eww, no!

Church:
OK. We're gonna send over our Medic. Now, what do we get?

Simmons:
You? You're surrendering! You don't get anything except humiliation and ridicule!

Tucker:
We've already got that! What else do you have?

Grif:
Hey thanks kiss ass, if I want to take guarding tips from the guy that lost our last prisoner, I'll be sure to ask you

Donut:
Oh man, that is a burn. Dude, you just got burned, burned dude, burned.

Simmons:
Shut up, your armor's pink.

Church:
Huh... I see

Caboose:
Owwwww! My Foot!

Church:
Well, It looks like Caboose has hurt himself... Maybe you should get over there and help him Doc

Sarge:
I only drink the blood of my enemies.

Church:
How's it going, Tucker? We get any useful information out of the prisoner yet?

Tucker:
I figured he was here to steal back Lopez, but he won't give us anything. Except a list of crockpot recipes. Would that be "useful'?

Church:
Do we *have* a crockpot?

Tucker:
No, Caboose had a trade with that annoying guy from Blue Command. He swapped it for a "Mystery Box'.

Church:
What was in the "Mystery Box'?

Tucker:
140 jars of mayonaise.

Church:
Well, *thats* a good trade.

Tucker:
Yeah, it doubles as a great sunscreen!

Church:
How did you... never mind.

Caboose:
This is fun! Ok, ok, your turn! Truth or dare?

Donut:
Hmm. Truth!

Caboose:
Ok... tell me... all of the Red's secret plans!

Donut:
Aww! You tricked me! You Blue guys are so smart. Ok, now listen closely. Our biggest secret is...

Church:
Caboose! Its me, Church! I possesed this guy so we can - hey. This pink armor is kinda comfortable. Roomy. What were you guys talking about?

Caboose:
Oh... nothing.

Church:
I think I came up with a plan for how we can use Lopez and our new prisoner to get an upper hand on the Reds...

Church:
... The plan does not involve mayonnaise.

Tucker:
Dammit! I knew there would be a catch!

Sarge:
I love blood and violence! I've got a boner for murder!

Grif:
You think they'll show up?

Simmons:
Well, my gut says no, but then again, my gut's made of an advanced polymer, and it doesn't know what the hell it's talking about. Stupid gut.

Church:
All right, get ready to launch Operation Circle of Confusion.

Tucker:
Uh, Church? It kinda looks more like a triangle from down here.

Church:
What?

Tucker:
I'm just saying, it doesn't look much like a circle. It looks more like we're forming a triangle. Just a side note.

Church:
OK, fine. Triangle of Confusion! Rhombus of Terror! Parabola of Mystery! Who cares? Get the goddamn show on the road!

Tucker:
What the hell, Vic? How do you know the Red Team? What are you helping them against the Blues? What the fuck is going on here?

Blue Command:
Ohh. Private Tucker. You're on here too Um... See, I um... you guys are... uh, I gotta go, bad connection.

Church:
Tucker, what the fuck are you babbling about?

Church:
I didn't want to mess with the timeline.

Caboose:
Time... line?

Caboose:
Time isn't made of lines! It is made of circles. That is why clocks are round.

Grif:
So how did the game go?

Church:
Great! if you were on the other team!

Grif:
So you lost?

Church:
yes, well unless there is some new game type where you try to catch the most amount of bullets with your torso... and in that case Simmons was the winner!

Sarge:
Why don't we try to find O'Malley?

Caboose:
I know where you can find O'Malley. He lived inside my helmet for a while. Maybe he left an address to send his mail. We were like roommates.

Sarge:
Sounds like he took some of the furniture when he left. And the carpet. And the drapes. And I wouldn't expect to get that deposit back, if you know what I mean.

Caboose:
Look at what I found.

Donut:
I found it!

Caboose:
Look at what I took credit for finding.

Sarge:
Actually, the problem is with Lopez!

Grif:
Don't tell me. The ambassador from Spanishland is coming, and without Lopez we don't have anyone to translate.

Simmons:
There's no such thing as "Spanishland", you retard...

Grif:
Yes, there is. They have those, um, waterslides... and all that salsa!

Simmons:
No... they don't.

Grif:
Well... I guess you would know.

Simmons:
What's that supposed to mean?... FOR THE LAST TIME, I'M DUTCH-IRISH!

Grif:
Hey, don't let your fiery Latin temper get out of control. I was just trying to make a point.

Blue Command:
Hello Dude, come in, Doctor dude, are you there... paging Dr. Dude to the radio, stat! I need 20 CC's of what the hell's going on down there, dude.

Blue Command:
Hey, you tell me, dude... one minute we're talkin' about a hole in the wall, the next thing I know you turn into Grumps McGurt... sounded like you needed a lozenge... threatened to eat my children... not very cool, dude...

Blue Command:
Hey, no offense taken, dude, don't got any kids anyway -...

Blue Command:
Old Vic's been through the snip'n'stitch, if you know what I mean...

Blue Command:
Winky-blinky, the one-eyed sergeant's firin' blanks...

Blue Command:
If you get me.

Blue Command:
Vaya Con Dios to the Vas Deferens!

Blue Command:
I need a vasectomy, dude.

Blue Command:
Roger that, what did you find?

Blue Command:
It's like a thing. Okaaay, dude, thank you for the update. I'll be sure to alert the chief of staff...

Blue Command:
Move to DefCon 1.

Blue Command:
Use your words, dude.

Blue Command:
I don't know, dude... why don't I just consult my extraterrestrial travel guide for you. Oh, look! They have a great series of alien bed-and-breakfasts there! Lucky you.

Caboose:
Sheila! Come back to me! I made you a muffin!

Church:
Uhh... Thank God for the Chain of Command?

Church:
Okay. We all agree that while the current situation is not totally ironic, the fact that we now have to work together is odd in an unexpected way, that defies our normal circumstances. Is everyone happy with that?

Tucker:
I wish Tex was here. She wouldn't have any problem flipping it.

Church:
You *obviously* did not know Tex that well.

Church:
How'd he get up there so quick?

Donut:
Man, that guy is wicked fast!

Grif:
Track sucks!

O'Malley:
Your soul is the cavern of lies.

Church:
Tucker! Tucker! Are you okay?

Tucker:
Church... the purple guy... he's...

Church:
Yeah, I know. It's O'Malley, he must have gotten the medic somehow...

Tucker:
No... he's an asshole...

Sarge:
Simmons, Grif, we're out of luck. Get ready to open fire. Today is a good day to die.

Grif:
Wait! I think today is actually a good day to RETREAT. Can't we push dying to a week from Friday?

Simmons:
Yeah... let's all take dying as an open-action item, and come back with suggestions next meeting.

Sarge:
No! It has to be today. For our ancestors. YEAARRRRHH!

Donut:
Hey guys. We might have a problem here. Somebody - and I'm not gonna say who - might have thought that one of the cyborg parts we needed for Simmons' surgery was a cupholder. And somebody - not naming any names here - might have left it, along with their favorite smooth jazz compilation CD, in the Warthog. I just don't know who would do such a thing.

Grif:
Was it you?

Donut:
Yeah. Uh, no!

Donut:
I mean, no.

Donut:
Dammit.

Tucker:
Oh my God. I can't believe Caboose is smart enough to drive this thing and I'm not. Sheila, how the fuck do I slow you down?

Sheila:
Retard the throttle.

Tucker:
What throttle? This throttle?

Sheila:
Retard the controller.

Tucker:
You mean this thing? What are you talking about, I'm so cunfused!

Sheila:
The controller, retard!

Tucker:
Hey, that's kind of insulting.

Sheila:
Retard. Retard. Retard.

Tucker:
Oh come on, now you're just being mean.

Sheila:
Retard. Retard. Retard.

Sheila:
Retard.

Sarge:
Hey, Simmons. What's the name of that Mexican lizard? Eats all the goats?

Simmons:
Uh, that would be the Chupacabra, sir

Sarge:
Hey, Grif. Chupa-thingy, how 'bout that?

Caboose:
And Sheila will love me again. And this time, for who I am. And not just for my stunning good looks... but for those too.

Church:
So just remember, the Internet can be a very scary place if you're not prepared.

Grif:
How do you recommend they prepare?

Church:
I don't know. Try going to your local middle school chess club. Hand out crystal meth and drugs. That might be good practice.

Grif:
Thanks for watching, everybody! Now let's all go home and masturbate!

Caboose:
My name is Micheal J. Caboose, and I hate babies!

Church:
Private Mickey was the first to go. He was half across the base when he started screaming bloddy murder.

Pvt. Mickey:
Bloddy murder! BLODDY MURDER!

Donut:
Come on, Mr. Blue guy! You gotta wake up! Wake up!

Tucker:
It hurts, just let me die.

Donut:
You can't die! I'm bored! All these girls want to talk about is chick stuff! And not the fun chick stuff like ribbons and unicorns.

Tucker:
Get Doc. I need Doc.

Donut:
I can't! He got possessed by that evil guy and they escaped! He's the one that shot you. Don't you remember?

Tucker:
I know. I want him to shoot me again.

Simmons:
Hello? Hello? Is anybody here? Just great. I guess we all got seperated in the teleporter.

Simmons:
Sarge, this is Simmons 2.0, do you read me? Apparently, your plan to chase Lopez and Doc failed miserably. I appear to be stuck in some kind of nexus of teleporters, which could take me anywhere in the universe.

Simmons:
Or it's... the janitors closet, hell, I don't fuckin' know. Sarge, are you there? Sarge!

Caboose:
My toes... are getting pruney.

Caboose:
I know where you can find O'Malley. He lived inside my helmet for a while, maybe he left an address to send his mail. We were like roomates.

Sarge:
Sounds like he took some of the furniture when he left. And the carpet. And the drapes. And I wouldn't expect to get that deposit back, if you know what I mean.

Caboose:
Sergeant! Look! A sleeping person!

Sarge:
What? Holy Macaroon.

Sarge:
He's not sleeping, son, he's dead.

Caboose:
Oh good. At first, I thought that was me because I am blue and I like to sleep. But if he is dead, that cannot be me. That would be silly.

Caboose:
Look! More sleeping people! It must be naptime! But who has naptime now? Nap time comes before pants time, not after. I think these people are just making up times.

Sarge:
Get over here! Give me a boost!

Caboose:
Ok. You are a good person. And people say nice things about you.

Sarge:
Not a moral boost, moron, a physical one. I need to see what's in that window.

Caboose:
That window is very high. I don't think you are tall enough.

Sarge:
I know. I need you to help me look through it.

Caboose:
I don't think I am tall enough either. Also, my head is round, that window is square.

Sarge:
What do you see?

Caboose:
I see, a room.

Sarge:
And? What's in the room?

Caboose:
There are some walls, and some ceilings. Wait, only one ceiling.

Sarge:
Hello? Is anyone OK? Are there any survivors? Preferably any red survivors? Don't let that discourage you from speaking up if you're blue. I won't step on your neck or anything like that.

Caboose:
Am I allowed to answer?

Caboose:
I just... need to... get angry... and say... mean things... like... uh, your... brain... is... a... mountain... of... hatred.

Sarge:
I never thought I'd reach the moment in my life when I actually missed Grif, but here it is.

Sarge:
Simmons, you get an F in efficiency, but I have to give you an A+ in dramatic timing.

Caboose:
I WILL EAT YOUR UNHAPPINESS!

Caboose:
Your toast has been burned and no amount of scraping will remove the black parts!

Sarge:
Oh shut up, Caboose.