“Let's go make Chaz wish he was never born." "Oh, Erin. I'm so glad you 're on my side." "Damn right, bitch.”
“Erin you' re dangerous." "Iknow.”
“Erin and I spent four hours shopping for dresses and shoes Tuesday night. She was going all out in her intention to make Chaz regret any decision he'd made that didn't include worshipping at her feet.”
“Bad luck doesn't have any chinks in it," he said with deep bitterness. "I was born a son of a bitch and I'm going to die a son of a bitch.”
“Perhaps we humans are still in command, and perhaps there really will be a conventional robot war in the not-so-distant future. If so, let's roll. I'm ready. My toaster will never be the boss of me. Get ready to make me some Pop-Tarts, bitch.”
“You shut up. I'm older and I'm not going to stay at your palace of decadence and deviance." --Brody to Erin.”