Part 3 -
Aeryn is upset with John and walks off annoyed.
Neeyala: She doesn't like you.
John Crichton: Nah, it's a phase. It's part of her charm.
Neeyala: I admit to some skepticism myself.
John Crichton: Well, you gotta know how deep the doo-doo is Ryg, if you're gonna dig your way out.
John Crichton: If he masters wormhole technology, what will he use it for?
Scorpius: Faster delivery of pizzas.
General Ka D'Argo: Something Crichton said is disturbing me.
Dominar Rygel XVI: Finally! I've been saying that since he arrived.
Maldis: What's the matter with you, Crichton? Are all the species on your planet this dim?
John Crichton: Fetch the comfy chair.
John Crichton: I'm sick of this whole turd-burp end of the universe.
General Ka D'Argo: Zhaan, let me explain to you what's going on inside my nose right now. There's large pieces of green mucus gunk--
John Crichton: D'Argo. D'Argo. D'Argo. No, no, no, no. Stop it with the Luxan poetry.
John Crichton: Haven't you read the Super Villain's Handbook? This is where you're supposed to twirl your mustache and gloat.
John Crichton: Oh, yeah. I think I've seen this one before. Mel Gibson, Tina Turner...Cage match!
about Rygel
John Crichton: It's not Kansas, and you're way too homely to be Auntie Em. Come here, Toto.
singing
Zhaan: I was. I keep seeing you die.
Chiana: Look, maybe we should get a different lawyer.
Dersch: Well, you're welcome to try, there's plenty of them around. Ninety per cent of our population are lawyers.
General Ka D'Argo: As John once said, 'I would rather go down on a swing.'
John Crichton: Swinging. You wanna go down...swinging.
General Ka D'Argo: Swinging.
John and D'Argo are playing 'Rock, Paper, Scissors'
John Crichton: Again?
General Ka D'Argo: Yeah.
John Crichton: One, two, three.
John throws paper. D'Argo throws rock.
Laughs.
John Crichton: No, I win. Paper wraps rocks.
General Ka D'Argo: No, paper cannot possibly beat rock.
John Crichton: It does. Paper beats rock.
General Ka D'Argo: Rock rips through paper.
John Crichton: D'Argo, that's not how it works. Paper beats rocks.
General Ka D'Argo: That's unrealistic.
John Crichton: Well, it's the rules! And it's not supposed to be realistic, it's supposed to be entertaining.
General Ka D'Argo: My coma was more entertaining.
Dominar Rygel XVI: May your afterlife be almost as pleasant as mine.
Dominar Rygel XVI: Double the Crichton, and you double the waste of time!
John Crichton: Shyeah! It'd totally screw the pooch, babe!
Dominar Rygel XVI: Bitchin'.
Grunchlk: After the Doc cuts the tendrils that have hijacked your brain, he's gonna try and take out the neuro chip completely. But he needs your help.
John Crichton: What do I gotta do?
Grunchlk: Because there's no template of your brain on our database, he doesn't know what bits o' grey do what. So when he probes, you tell him.
John Crichton: Right. Where will you be?
Grunchlk: Anywhere else. I vomit when things get messy.
Puts piece of food into his mouth
Dominar Rygel XVI: That's krawlda. A delicacy, even for pagans.
John Crichton: Well, how long was it under your butt getting delicate?
D'argo had just jumped over a vat of something unpleasant and deadly in order to save someone
John Crichton: That was so Batman!
John Crichton: I don't know what you've been smoking, Buckwheat, but we've got a serious problem here.
Dominar Rygel XVI: Nothing a good meal won't solve, I'm sure.
Zhaan: I've always wondered what could be beyond height and width, depth and time.
John Crichton: Nausea.
General Ka D'Argo: Have you ever heard of anything like this happening before?
John Crichton: D'Argo, I haven't heard of anything like anything before. My planet doesn't even go to the moon anymore.
General Ka D'Argo: One...two...fire!
John Crichton: Hey, what happened to three?
Aeryn Sun: I apologize for my strengths.
Zhaan: My dear, I've kicked more ass than you've sat on.
John Crichton: Twisted as it sounds, what we have right here is exactly what we need, guns in lots of hands pointed in every direction.
Chiana: Distress call. Directed at us?
laughing
Zhaan: There is much cruelty in the universe.
John Crichton: Yeah, we seem to have a treasure map to it.
John Crichton: Oh, great. So he's like one of those mechanics on 60 Minutes who says he's gonna help and then he screws us.
John Crichton: Bingo! Give brainiac a fluffy dog.
Captain Biallar Crais: I'm only judging on my experience with you, but I've never seen such a deficient species. You have no special abilities. You're not particularly smart, can hardly smell, can barely see, and you're not even vaguely physically or spiritually imposing. Is there anything you do well?
John Crichton: Watch football.
Dominar Rygel XVI: I never run away. I...strategically maneuver.
Aeryn Sun: Why don't you make another speech, you self-important, deficient little man. All you ever do is talk! Your father was the hero, you know. He did things. You, you're just this test monkey that screwed up your first experiment.
Laughing hysterically
John Crichton: You can eat anything as long as it's fried.
John Crichton: What did you buy?
Aeryn Sun: Just some essentials.
John Crichton: Would that be floss? Lipliner?
Aeryn Sun: Weapons. I traded a pulse pistol for some original Tarik deployers.
John Crichton: Cool.
