Bill: Too bad there are no good poems about nature.
Kevin: The talking cat!?!
Bill: So, who’s your favorite character so far?
Mike: Whoa, he went there.
Kevin: We can go have sex.
Mary Jo: Oh yeah, that must be the retrograde thrust.
Kevin: There’s no high hat. Where am I?
Bill: You know Lupe, I love using burlap for my body sacks. Sturdy, yet light and breathable.
Kevin: Which Brian? I’m lost and I’m a Brian.
Bill: President Ford is about to speak.
Ian: This must be the longest snowmobiling sequence since records began.
Mike: Alright, I’ve seen a lot of movies and I can tell you exactly where this is going.
Kevin: That night, mother found out father had been narrating another woman.
Bill: Meanwhile the zombies are out there drinking PBR and reminiscing
Mike: Castleton college?
Mary Jo: You know what, I hand it to her. I personally wouldn’t want to draw attention to myself being kidnapped.
Mike: Hey, I just got a note from the ghost of Gary Gygax.
Mike: And here we go with the Citizen Kane of bad movies.
Mike: I hate parades of aquatic champions. I’m scared of the Speedo wearing clowns.
Mike: Doing words? Oh, let’s see. Well, roast comes to mind. Also, parboil, saute, baste, marinate, and dice.
Kevin: It’s the gritty reboot of ‘Setting Up A Room.’
Kevin: Wait! This guy—it just occurred to me—
Mike: I summoned all the powers of darkness to bring my plush toy collection to life.
Bill: Oh god, a giant ‘X’ from nowhere!
Bill: God, a seventies hipster!
“It’s times like this when you’re approaching a mortuary late a night,
Kevin: You know, it’s almost like Nazis have ruined heiling things for the rest of us.
Kevin: Wait a second. Is there a rule that says a kangaroo can’t play basketball?
“It was a long walk from his death row cell to what laid waiting for him.
Bridget: What ads are you putting in the paper?
Bill: It’s a torture dungeon, but they strung a safety chain on the balustrade. Why?
Bill: Ooh, Zamfir. Get down with your bad self. Tear Windham Hill a new one.
“Yes, it’s Gifts from The Air with all your favorite characters:
Movie: I think if you just chew that bubble gum maybe a little bit less.
Bill: Fungicide: Life on the Streets.
Kevin: It’s a thing with stuff.
Ian: He was sitting on a ridiculously tiny stool.
Kevin: What do we want?
Bill: Help! That guy from that terrible Star Trek movie is grabbing us.
Movie: Are you high on something?
Movie: In other news, a plane containing medical supplies exploded last night and authorities believe it’s the work of the Power Corp.
“Come on, this is ridiculous. Doesn’t this director know how to make a horror movie?
Bill: Kids really enjoy their hard bop, don’t they?
“Hi, folks. I’m Corkren Theopolis Crow. You may remember me from Alfred Hitchcock’s classic thriller, The Birds. I got to pluck Suzanne Pleshette’s eyes out. You know, working with Ms. Pleshette was a delight. She was a real pro and her eyeballs were delicious. And now here’s our story.” The “Suzanne Pleshette” Speech pulled from […]
Bill: Now, which one these figures is Stinkor, the Evil Master of Odors?
“No, see, I have to agree with Alan Moore that the whole Before Watchmen thing is shameless.
“Please, gentlemen. This is Boston. Can’t we fight over something civilized like Deflategate or whether the Dropkick Murphys kind of suck?”
“Raul. Hey, Raul. This has been bugging me. What was the name of the chick who played the daughter on Alf? Raul? Can you hear me? Daughter on Alf? Yeah, you’re no use.”
Mary Jo: Bridget, did your daughter-in-law deep clean and redecorate your house on her honeymoon?
Mike: The upside to living post apocalypse? No Rachel Ray.
Bill: Carries an acetylene torch in his pants?
Kevin: Kid, it’s the narrator. I’m locked out. That is not a cylinder. Kid, let me in.
Kevin: Oh, it’s Nick Nolte’s summer place.
“Alone at Home is not to be confused with Home Alone,
Bill: Nick Nolte’s mountain home.
Bill: The cut-off lyric posits the theory that a heavy plum pudding diet was why Batman smelled–edited out on threat of a lawsuit.
Kevin: This looks vaguely familiar. Oh right, my vacation footage from when I went to hell.
Mike: I just don’t understand how we’re this far into a bird plague movie with no discussion of stock options.
Bill: About my new company, Mass Solar.
Bill: I hear a mountain lion.
Mike: Just a warning, Jack’s weeping at Julie’s grave is even more emotional than when the eagles killed Becky in Birdemic.
Kevin: This feels like Rod Sterling should step out and do a monologue.
Bill: Okay, it’s not a coat hanger but it’s very close.
Mike: This scene of an 18-wheeler slowly starting and pulling away guest directed by James Nguyen.
Kevin: And here comes driving scenes’ first cousin, carefully signaling and turning into a parking lot scene.
Mike: Parking scene guest directed by Mr. James Nguyen.
Mike: James Nguyen’s Taxi Driver.
Kevin: Ot-oh, she’s going to pull a Becky on the beach.
Bill: Is the soundtrack trying to become John Lennon’s “Imagine” or am I just a dreamer?
Bill: He’s laughing cause he remembers that great hashtag pun on Twitter last night.
Bill: That’s my favorite Beatles movie. Yellow Submarine was too weird. What the hell is with Magical Mystery Tour?
Mike: Golden Corral’s new slogan—ah dang, I can’t quite make that work.
Movie: In a couple of days the stench alone will choke us.
Movie: Very close to success.
Movie: If this doesn’t kill them, the smell will.
Movie: Come now, it’s good meat. Probably better than anything you ever tasted. Eat, my boy.
Bill: Golden Corral, your favorite dinning establishment.
Bill: Man, I just realized he’s making an army of Ziggys.
Kevin: Oh yes. Soap up there, mustache. That’s how Kevie likes it.
Mike: An Emerson, Lake and Palmer song is trying to start!
Mike: Maybe these are “The Boys?”
Mike: Mmm, I guess we’re in Dresden 1945?
Kevin: Are you ready to rock?
Kevin: So, at what age do you stop being interested in really undramatic digital fantasy effects?
“Ohai Mark. Hai Denny. Hai Lisa.
Kevin: Now, why can’t the sex scenes be that efficient?
Mike: Man, poor usher, huh?
Bill: Peakviewing Transatlantic: sure we make films, but mostly we fly over oceans to look at mountains.
Mike: The day Lincoln got shot.
Kevin: Sounds like Sprach Zarathustra.
Mike: A signal lamp trying to tell us something. Kevin, please decode.
Mike: This movie brought to you by Japan.
“Hi, guys. Betty Columbia here. Welcome to the show.
Kevin: The Frankie Valli Institute!?! Ah crap, I was hoping for a sneak preview of The Jersey Boys film adaptation.
Kevin: What? Wait! What the—
Kevin: This is much more discrete then simply walking to the rendezvous point.
Kevin: So, did you have fun in the Thumbelina room?
“My dearest Aunt Evelyn… The birds overcame us at dawn today. So many succumbed to their taunts and acidic poo. There are no words proper which to describe the calamity and ruination in this war of avian aggression. Your loving nephew, Milo.” Bill Corbett’s “My Dearest Aunt Evelyn Speech” pulled RiffTrax Live: Birdemic.
Mike: Frankie Avalon in Beach Blanket Assassins.