Stan: Dude, what the fuck is wrong with German people?
Mr. Garrison: Ok, now let's try to get an answer from someone who's not a complete retard... anyone?
Terrance: This is worse than the time when I fell asleep and you put your dick in my mouth and took a picture.
Stan: [singing] The sun is shining and the grass is green. / Under the three feet of snow, I mean.
Newscaster: It's been six weeks since Saddam Hussein was killed by wild boars and the world is still glad to be rid of him.
Dr. Doctor: We accidentally replaced your heart with a baked potato. You have about three seconds to live.
Crow: Rock em' sock em' archeologists!
Tom Servo: What do you think the lesson of the movie was?
Crow: Don't watch it.
Crow: Can we agree that from now on, films have to be made by FILMMAKERS?
Tom Servo: If you only see 10,000 movies this year, make sure this isn't one of them.
Crow: What's the point of a helmet in skydiving, in case you land on your head?
Tom Servo: Emby Mellay? That's not a name, it's a bad Scrabble hand!
Mike Nelson: Wench-jacking was a big problem in the Middle Ages.
Mike Nelson : In the future, geese will be rocket-powered.
Tom Servo: I see the movie has finally thrown up its hands and said, "I just don't know."
Crow T. Robot: I want to hurt this movie, but I can never hurt it like it hurt me.
Crow T. Robot: The only response to this film is pure, unbridled hate.
Mike Nelson :You know, this movie can be used to induce vomiting.
Tom Servo: Gee, even the movie "The Fog" didn't have this much fog.
Crow T. Robot: I have my doubts that this movie is actually "starring" anybody. More like "camera is generally pointed at."
[Tom's poem, "A Child's Christmas in Space"]
Tom Servo: It's quiet in the cold of our own little orbit, starless and Bible black. And as I look down on the big blue beam we would call home I think it so near, yet... oh, I wish on that star and I hope that in a little snow-covered house with a warm hearth and a loving family, maybe some kid is looking up tonight and wishing upon us. Oh, and how I hope sweet Santa will fly by tonight because if he does I'm gonna reach right out and hug that big guy. Oh, for the sound of hooves against the steel hull of the ship. Oh, to see the rosy face of Santa in the portal offering me a Coke and a smile... [gradually gets more and more upset and hysterical] ...of course, his cheeks would be rosy because there's a vacuum out there, I mean Santa's heart would explode! But he wouldn't feel it because the capillaries in his brain would pop like little firecrackers...
Joel Hodgson: Tom...
Tom Servo: ...due to the blood boiling away in his face like pudding in a copper... OH THE HUMANITY!
Joel Hodgson : Crow: Tom!
Tom Servo: And his jolly old belly would start bubbling like a roasted marshmallow, eyes bulging and popping out... AND THE REINDEER -- OH THE REINDEER!! -- keep floating like holiday floats and in turn exploding in a hail of blood and entrails! Prancer -- BOOM! Dancer -- BOOM!
Joel Hodgson: HEY!
Crow T. Robot: Tom!
Joel Hodgson: Tom take it easy, Santa's gonna be okay, buddy.
Tom Servo: You sure?
Joel Hodgson: Yeah, give him a little credit, okay?
Tom Servo: Phew, what a relief!