Tick: It's your turn now, Thorace-bog.
Thrakkorzog: It's Thrakkorzog. Thrakkorzog. With a K.
Tick: We're only serving humble pie, Whatchamazog.
Thrakkorzog: For the last time, it's...
Tick: Thorax-and-a-bog. Four-yacks-and-a-dog.
Thrakkorzog: No.
Tick: Ah, laxative-log.
Thrakkorzog: No, no, no.
Tick: Sapsucker-frog.
Thrakkorzog: Thrakkorzog.
Tick: Susan?
Thrakkorzog: Now you're doing it on purpose. How juvenile.
Arthur! That belt is a fashion accessory of evil! And evil is never in fashion!
We've got to smack evil on the snout with the rolled-up newspaper of goodness!
Terror: You think you can take me, do ya?
Tick: You got that right, you big weenie.
Terror: Bah! I'll fold you into my wallet and spend you on a whore!
Interviewer: Can you see through steel?
Tick: No
Interviewer: Can you create energy based multiples of yourself?
Tick: Whoa! Nope
Interviewer: Can you destroy the earth?
Tick: YE GADS! I hope not! That's where I keep all of my stuff!
I can't read your crazy moon language!
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