Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

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