Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Hail to you, my Triple Husbandoid. I summon you here to group greet our swift Imperial navies home.
From Earth, Triskelion's three suns are just a flicker of light.
Why do they like to watch others being hurt, killed?
If there's any chance at all,
- Just keep looking for them. - I'd welcome a suggestion, doctor,
I have been sent to welcome you.
The disgusting shit coming out of my ass was the kind of diarrhea only the Devil could produce
Lars.
We can't wager for trifles like quatloos.
- Standard orbit, captain. - Good.
- Provider Two, 350 quatloos! - Provider Three, 400!
No, doctor. Even that would show up on our sensors.
Confucius he say Man who goes to bed with itchy bottom wakes up with smelly fingers
And then I pull my pants down, and start to paint my tush, and dress up in leather, and squat on Barbara Bush
I am merely pursuing the only logical course available to us.
They're not within the confines of this solar system.
Someone we care for.
Because you have amused the Providers,
It's faint, sir, but it consistently reads an excess of predictable energy level.
And you call yourselves superior!
I see.
You are free.
I don't think so, captain.
...if we're even in the same dimension.
and we find ourselves on a strange and hostile planet,
Your spirit is as great as the captain's.
All right, if we don't find them here,
You begin, Uhura.
Stop it. Stop it!
There has been no mistake.
- Lieutenant Uhura, let's go. - Yes, sir.
Since your alternative is death.
Such spirit! I wager 15 quatloos that he is untrainable.
- What do they want from us? - You are to be trained, of course.
Anarchy. They would starve.
We hold, Provider One.
It means you're a very beautiful woman.
Every circuit works perfectly.
You're out of your Vulcan mind!