And I won't lie to you. This mission will be dangerous. –Uh, would you say we'd be venturing into a zone of danger? –Well, yes, obviously. –No, but I mean how would you phrase that? –I... The zone will be one of danger? –No, I mean... (sigh) not-- if you'd say that the-- (sigh) Forget it. Never mind. And you never mind and also shut up!
It's not what it looks like. –Well, that's a relief. Because, uh, it looks like you're sitting here with a gun, right? And over there, strapped to a chair and shot to death, is a guy in a full-body latex catsuit! Or am I misreading the situation?! –Well, technically, it's a zentai.
So, we've got a dead Italian Prime Minister in the living room, which-- –Sucks. I bet he knew how to make sauce. –...Which will be hard to explain, especially given the circumstances leading up to his death which were-- –Dildo-ey. –Unseemly. –Eh, potatoe, pa-dildo.
I'm setting the auto-pilot, but this better not be a ruse. –A ruse? Brring-brring! Hello? Hi, it's the 1930s! Can we have our words and clothes and shitty airplanes back? –Let's go, kid. –Call you back, 1930s, and hey... watch out for that Adolph Hitler. He's a bad egg!
I didn't run away from home. I'm a grown man whose fiancee was murdered in front of his very eyes. So excuse me for needing some time to grieve! –By tending bar and banging newlyweds? –Apparently that's my grieving process!