Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

You think a bank wants to own a failing dairy farm with obsolete milkers?
How isn't important. What is important--
Oh, wait, I can't, because I left my lightsaber in my other space pants!
Suppressing fire!
You did. You got those two guys, who were just minding their own business.
Cyril, you're in command, try not to kill us. Everybody else, strap in.
What's the word I'm looking for?
ARCHER: Somebody get his goddamn gun!
Ugh. All right. But turn around.
GUARD: Aah! My eye!
LANA: Yeah, right?
Oh, whatever. Come on, we gotta figure a way out of this.
Don't listen to her, Cyril, you're gonna do great.
We've been locked in here ever since you idiots took over Horizon.
Mr. Archer, do I have to sedate you? Well, I wouldn't say no to a drink.
with your looks, maybe bitchy is not the way to go.
"Do" as in tolerate, be around, touch...
Thanks to you and your fire extinguisher. Right?
To shoot that cuntbag in his face
What is that? Who's got beer?
We need you in peak physical condition for this great undertaking of ours.
Please. We just want to go home.
No, I'm good. Yeah, uh, me too.
LANA: Archer, do something. ARCHER: Sure thing, Lana.
Don't remind me.
You'd be much more comfortable in my quarters.
And I'm telling you that I didn't sign up for Animal Farm in space.
ARCHER: Okay, the airlock's closed. Happy?
No, don't make her. Come on, Pam.
Yeah. Who built this door, space dwarves?
Spacebot!
GUARD: Ow! My other eye!
Serves you right. Anybody else hit?
Almost there.
Okay, then it's settled.
Yeah, I do. Yeah. That's why I'm here-