[NAHTMMM]

Baltar: Thank you. I believe our paranoia regarding artificial intelligence and advancing computer technologies is antiquated and unfounded. It's been decades since we've encountered the Cylons, and it's not like they're walking among us, disguised as humans, just waiting for the perfect time to strike.


Tyrol: Welcome to the Galactica, Captain Adama. It's an honour to --
Apollo: If you're in charge of kissing up to the boss's son, you can shove it.
Tyrol: Of course, sir. Excellent idea, sir, and very well put if I may say so.
Apollo: I hate this ship.


Tyrol: Okay, gang, let's round up the ammo and get it loaded. There's the warheads, the bullets, and the... crazy person pointing a gun at me.
Leoben: What, I don't get a "Hello"?

:mrgreen: :mrgreen:

Tigh: How do you know this guy is a Cylon?
Baltar: Nobody who's not evil wears suits that ugly, and I should kn-- never mind. If you want more proof... hey, Cylon: two plus two is five.
Doral: What? No it's not.
Baltar: See? His hard-wired Cylon brain can't handle a simple mathematical error.
Doral: But two plus two is NOT FIVE!
Tigh: Save your lies for someone who cares, Cylon scum. Take him away!

Great stuff.

Mengsk: Alright, we've decoded those data discs and discovered plans for something called a psi emitter.
Raynor: Huh?
Kerrigan: Basically, the emitters use the same psychic frequencies as a "ghost" operative such as myself, amplified hundreds of times greater than that of a single ghost, to attract the Zerg.
Raynor: ....Huh?
Kerrigan: Look, just plant the one we've built in the Confederate base, and we won't have to do the killing ourselves.
Commander: But I like killing....
Kerrigan: Quiet, bloodthirsty gamer.

Heehee. :mrgreen: