Knit, uh, Picking Bastard, purl Bailey.

Come on up.

He's stinking up the place.

Open up, it's the government.

Chris Peterson just showed up.

Gus, what are you doing up?

Grab a fork and pull up a chair.

And frankly, we're always looking for an excuse to get a good cover-up going.

They're levitating Spewy back up into the ship using highly advanced technology that we can barely understand.

Well, why don't I just go see if I can't shush him up just a... Now shush this, Snowball.

Either that or a couple of those moles were experimenting in their underground lab and they blew up the joint.

Uh, that was me.

Oh, excuse me, Liz.

You and me, forever.

Maybe they want to chop us up and put us into jars of formaldehyde and then keep us in separate cabinets so we never, ever, ever see each other again.

Can you hear me, little one?

Well, it seems okay to me.

I don't know what came over me.

Life has no meaning for me anymore.

Oh, he's trying to make contact with me.