Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

It make the ganglia Twtich

living on a simultaneous plane of existence with our own.

Blacks... are on this planet!

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

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

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

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

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

Specific density is 2.5. Over.

Tomorrow I'm goin' home with my overthruster

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

You are secure.

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

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

so that future generations of Americans will...

- Throttles and start levers? - Closed, off.

You can see them now? Here?

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

Buckaroo, can you verify operational capability?

I want an electromagnetic fuel reading from the launch.

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

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

Sealed with a curse as sharp as a knife.

You’re overthruster is shit

Gents... we're going to Yoyodyne.

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

There are monkey boys in the facility.

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

Do not take to the floor.

Wait here. I'll be right back.

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

It's your hand, Buckaroo.

figured that if solid matter were mostly just empty space,

Hello! Buckaroo Banzai!?

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

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

Then I guess the moment is upon us.

Do you want a robot to cut into your brain?

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

- Is the girl dead? - Yes!

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

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

Oh, the deuce you say.

He's vanished. Thin air.

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

Dr Emilio Lizardo is a raving lunatic, Perfect Tommy.

John O'Connor...

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

Sounds like he's getting a little nervous.

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

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

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

He's vanished. Thin air.

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

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

I've got to bring John Bigbooté to work sometimes

The crate they shoved in that van.

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

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