Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

No, I want my bacon. I gotta tell you something. Bacon is good for me.
To go back to the lights in the sky?
We'll become thralls, enter your games,
Not down here. All the dials were right
Yes, I'm sure you will.
Provider One bids 300 quatloos for the newcomers.
you want me to kiss your ass well bend over buddy, here comes my foot
I loved that movie Videodrome, I wish I could play videotapes by putting them in my stomach. Oh wow, these are good drugs.
Why, of course I mean that.
It's still a fancy way of saying that you're playing a hunch.
Your fate will remain a mystery to your people.
We, too, have mates.
Although we expected strength and competitive spirit,
I just made a giant masterpiece for all the Greatest World Newspaper nerds
You have won, Captain Kirk, unfortunately.
Through aeons of devoting ourselves exclusively to intellectual pursuits,
Those people are friends of ours out there, if they're still alive.
- What about Lars? - He's gone to report me.
you want me to kiss your ass? well bend over buddy, here comes my foot
There will be no landing force, doctor.
My own stools, Sir, are gigantic and have no more odor than a hot biscuit.
I made her talk!
Space, the final frontier.
Two thousand quatloos are bid.
Tell me about the Providers.
We certainly seem to be heading into an empty sector.
Have you ever farted in a cup and made someone smell it? I have.
We are known to the thralls as Providers
Captain's log, stardate 3259.2.
There is no sign of life.
It may be shielded.
It is only to warn and punish.
That was a rough trip.
just because you found a discrepancy in a hydrogen cloud?
You've seen them? Do they have bodies?