Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

figured that if solid matter were mostly just empty space,

Sounds like he's getting a little nervous.

so that future generations of Americans will...

You can see them now? Here?

Well, haven't you heard? Don't you watch TV?

They blasted through the Eighth Dimension in 1938 over in Grover's Mill.

It's your hand, Buckaroo.

John O'Connor...

- What the hell's phase two? - That's a big no-can-do.

- Stay put. All of ya. - Sure thing.

- Shoot it, Bubba. Shoot it! - I can't! It's jammed! It's jammed!

50 cylinder. There is an immediate fire hazard. Do you read?

He's vanished. Thin air.

You’re overthruster is shit

- Dad! Dad! Buckaroo's in trouble! - Say what?

You are secure.

You give me hope to carry on, but then you leave me in the lurch

- Is the girl dead? - Yes!

- This is queer. Look. - What's up? What you got?

It's my guess that no human being has ever been inside the place.

- moving down over Connecticut. - From the jet car, do you think?

- The whole top of the tree's squashed! - Do you think it up there?

living on a simultaneous plane of existence with our own.

- He's broken the sound barrier! - Mach 1.3.

- Throttles and start levers? - Closed, off.

Dr Banzai replied "Vast chasms of hissing swamp, spurts of flame,

If you are not inside the great vehicle itself, you have missed the boat.

And she's gone and that's about all there is, really, to say about that.

Ladies and gentlemen, Artie's Artery is proud to present for a single night only,

- Like a big black flying dinosaur. - Dinosaur? It was purple.

Buckaroo, can you verify operational capability?

He's vanished. Thin air.

Gents... we're going to Yoyodyne.

and blow each other up in a burst of energy. Like a tiny big bang, like a... baby bang.

It make the ganglia Twtich

Coded. Calling all Blue Blaze irregulars in the Garden State.

It's Peggy to these eyes. It's the same nose. It's the same hair.

Dr Emilio Lizardo is a raving lunatic, Perfect Tommy.

Tomorrow I'm goin' home with my overthruster

There are monkey boys in the facility.

I want an electromagnetic fuel reading from the launch.

We gotta have something for him. Try a new cipher.

Hello! Buckaroo Banzai!?

If there's one thing I hate, it's to be mistaken for somebody else.

Sealed with a curse as sharp as a knife.

Specific density is 2.5. Over.

Then I guess the moment is upon us.

Oh, the deuce you say.

Well, there it is, tyre tracks right up to a wall of rock.

And you tell him that it's John Whorfin calling.

The crate they shoved in that van.

Blacks... are on this planet!

I've got to bring John Bigbooté to work sometimes

Sources close to the National Security Consortium have refused to comment.

We are getting a localised vibration of the drive train and a minor oil leak.

Do not take to the floor.

Do you want a robot to cut into your brain?

- Wait. Wait a minute. Wait. - Kill that spot. Kill it!

Wait here. I'll be right back.