Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Which reminds me.
No. We're scientists. We never even trained on the simulator.
No, Animal Farm.
What? Come on. Maybe next time, sorry.
...and as in let them claw their monster-y way out of our vagina.
Don't yell at me, this was your idea! What?
Oh, Krieger-san! I never judge you!
These nutsacks wanna take us to Mars to be baby factories.
"Do" as in...?
Only if by "Martian" you mean "born on Mars," not actual alien life forms.
PAM : "Auto." Got it. Moving the lever.
My tongue says sangrita, but my heart says...
Aw.
Seal the door behind me and prepare Horizon for launch.
Thanks a lot. Thank you.
Sure thing, boss man.
Oh. And ew.
Although I was talking about an actual animal farm.
What?
Ugh. What? Oh, for-- How was that racist?
And that?
Just adjusting the climate control.
Archer! Sorry, go on, Trish.
Okay, there.
So never mind.
Oh. You can wear this.
Next time, Barry.
Archer. ...michelada.
What's the hurry? We're all gonna die up here anyway.
Mars Forever!
Are you sure they can't get in?
What? What is wrong with you? And where are the other two--?
Next stop, Mars.