Yeah, I guess you could put liquor in it.
Faith and begorra. Then I'll take a thousand quarts.
It'll be drunken buttered potatoes for all of Dingle.
Deal.
Yo, Dave. Big order just came in.
- Mein butter churner is gestohlen. - Hey, hey. Shut your sprech-hole.
I need a thousand qt': by Thursday...
...or I'm gonna blow your ****ing ass out of the air lock.
- Got it? - Nein. Nein, geschtupid.
- Gestohlen. My butter churner is gestohlen. - What? I'm--
- Someone is stealing my butter churner. - Somebody stole your churn?
Ja, und without mein butter churner, I'm not going to have butter.
All right. All right, jeez.
Frigging Amish. Buggy-driving, barn-raising sons of...
Sparks. Sound the alarm. Seal the hatches. Move, man, move.
Hang on. Somebody stole Amish Dave's butter churn, and, meanwhile, I gotta--
No churn? Well, where the hell am I supposed to get my fix?
I mean, this one's cashed. Sparks, I can't go back to margarine.
- Relax. I'll figure something out. - Screw it. We've got bigger problems...
...than a butter shortage. And I never thought I'd say that.
But the Murphmobile is missing.
Well, maybe it's with my microscope.
- What does that have to do with anything? - My microscope is missing from the bio lab.
Well, get in line. I've got no butter and no Murphmobile to drive while I eat it.
That hair dryer was brand-new, for crying out loud.
Shut up about the stupid hair dryer.
Captain, you've got to do something.
What in Judas-rocking-Priest is going on around here?
There is a dirty, rotten, lowdown, stinking thief on Sealab.
- Somebody stole my hair dryer. - And my Hummel collection.
And my...
...back massager.
Back massager. Yeah, right.
- Looks like we're all missing something. - That's the whole point.
We don't know whose throat to slit.
What do you mean, "What?" A throat needs slitting...
-...and we don't know where to lay the blade. - I'm sure there's a rational explanation...
-...for the missing things. - Yeah, you took them.
What? My microscope was stolen.
Well, it's pretty obvious that you took your own microscope...
-...to cover up the fact that you did it. - Quinn.
- To me it is. - Come on, just fess up.
- Girl, what are you talking about? - It's obvious that you did it.
Oh, okay, I get it. So the black guy did it, huh?
Automatically blaming the black guy, huh? Nice.
Well, a minute ago, you were all ready to blame the Latino.
- No, I wasn't. - You wanna play the race card, Quinn?
Is that it? What, so Latinos steal?
- We're just a bunch of thieves, gringo? - Inever said that.
You don't have to say it. I can smell it on you.
You disgusting bigot.
- Would you shut up?! - Ican't believe I had sex with you...
-...ajillion times. - What?
You told me you were saving yourself for marriage.
No, no, no.
No.
- Could we not talk about our sex life? - What, are you ashamed of it?
Was it too dirty for you, Q?
Too hot. And savage.
That one time was a little weird.
- Oh, with the thing. - Yeah.
- That was weird. - I was drunk.
I know. Still weird.
Enough. Until we find the thief, I am declaring Martian law.
I think it's "martial law."
Silence. Under Martian law--
What are my powers, exactly?
Under martial law, you could suspend habeas corpus...
-...empower a posse comitatus-- - That's crap.
Mars is wild, untamed.
I'm forming a cadre of Martian Knights charged with enforcing Martian law.
- Martian Knights? - Now, who's ready to beat some ass?
- I'm in. - Idub thee Sir Phobos, Knight of Mars...
...beater of ass. Be a hitter, babe.
Hey, I wanna be a Martian Knight.
With you guys.
Maybe get one of them bats.
- Oh, my God. - What are you doing?
Silence. I am enforcing the sacred law of the Red Planet.
It's not Martian law.
- It's-- - Sir Phobos.
- My hand! You crushed my hand! - Oh, my God. We've gotta get out of here.
Just be cool. I'll try to distract them.
Something's real bad wrong in my pants.
Prithee, knave, what else can I do under Martian law?
Anything. Anything you want.
- Can I marry people? - I don't know. Yeah, sure.
Dr. Virjay, please report to--
Oh, God. That was my last hand.
Under Martian law, doctors and other wizards are forbidden.
- Nice swing, Sir Phobos. - The key is to hit really hard.
With the bat.
Okay. Quinn. Debbie. I bid thee...
-...get over here. - Captain...
...I insist that you place Marco under arrest.
- No. - Article 934 states that if--
- Silence, varlet. - Get me out of here.
You two. Me and Ares are a little tired of all this sinning.
- What? - Who?
Ares, God of Mars. So hitherforth...
- Sparks, can I marry people? - Yes, anything.
Okay. So hitherforth, you two are married.
That way, Ares will look more favorably on your couplings.
Now couple.
- What? - What?
You heard me. Put the spurs to her, doc.
Captain, you are no longer fit to command. I am relieving you.
- Okay. Sir Phobos. - I insist that you relinquish command this--
- Oh, my God. - Jeez.
- Oh, crap. - What?
- I think I killed her. - You animal. What have you done?
Man, that's tough. Newlyweds and everything.
- How you holding up? - I'm calling the police.
- Not so fast, Dr... Quinn, is it? - Yes.
Or is it Dr. Steal-Everything- From-the-Sacred-Planet-Red-Mars?
It's Quinn.
Then how do you explain this?
We're waiting.
- You say something? - No.
You just said "no." That's something.
- Open the door. - Shut your mouth.
- Sparks, they're insane. Call for help. - I can't work the controls, Quinny.
- Those hands. Totally useless? - Yes. Dear Lord, yes.
Well, don't worry, son. We'll take care of you.
Great benefits package here on Mars.
- It's in the planetary charter. - Can I get me some of those benefits?
- Stormy, go for help. Hurry. - Sir Deimos.
- Thank Ares you're alive. - Who the hell is Sir Deimos?
I hurt really bad where I pee.
Walk it off, Sir Deimos. I'm sending you on a quest.
You'd take a eunuch like me?
- No prejudice on Mars, son. - Also in the charter.
- For God's sake, don't listen to them. - Sir Deimos...
...your quest is to find Quinn's ass.
- And then beat it. - We're supposed to be looking for a thief.
- Take that, you dirty thief. - Take that, thief.
- My eye. What did you do to my eye? - Chill out, baby, come on.
Damn, Deimos.
Sparks, call the police.
Alrighty. Let us take the prisoner down to the dungeon for his court-Martian.
We don't really have a dungeon, baby.
Oh, crap. Sorry, fellas.
Earth, wind and fire. Back to the Shire.
See you at Tremendous-Con.
- Could you hit 2. please? - I'd be delighted.
Okay. Now, what the crap goes on in a court-Martian?
As lord regent of the sacred Red Planet, that would be your call, sir.
I know that, yeah.
Sparks, can I marry people?
- My hands. - Then as of this moment...
...I am married to Adrienne Barbeau...
...queen of Mars, from Olympus Mons to Tharsis.
And the punishment for Dr. Quinn shall be death...
-...by slitting. - You're all insane.
Let's have it done in the galley. It's got a tile floor with a drain in the middle...
...and that'll be good, since there's gonna be lots of blood...
...and Quinn guts slopping all over the place.
- No. Please. - Plus...
...we can sacrifice a virgin to Ares when we're done.
Wait. You can't do this.
- Knights of Mars. - Stop--
Tune him up a little, would you? Shut that yap of his.
God. Now my other eye. What did you do to my other eye?
Jeezie petes, Knights of Mars. I said, a little.
He's barely alive enough to kill.
I swear, I'll get you for this.
- All of you. - Yeah, right.
Come on, I'm over this. Sir Phobos.
- Surprise. - Surprise.
Oh, man, you should see the look on your face.
All right, baby, we did it.
- Thank you for your help, buddy. - You swear you didn't know?
Oh, man.
Crushed gonads were totally worth it.
So was my fractured skull.
Oh, Quinny, it's priceless.
- Crushed hands. Get it? - You did all of this for a surprise party?
Yeah. And wait'll you see the best part.
- What a bunch of ***holes. - Hit it, Hesh.
Go, robot, it's your birthday Go, robot, it's your birthday
You're one year older, one year wiser Rock 'n' roll star, king, czar and a Kaiser
A room full of friends, a mouth full of cake Every present is for you, and it feels great
You're the man of the hour, the VIP You get the first slice of the P-I-E
But first blow out the candles And make a wish
Put a smile on Because it's your birthday, bitch
Go, robot, it's your birthday Go, robot, it's your birthday
Seriously. What a bunch of ***holes. It's not even my birthday.
[ENGLISH]