Spy: Cigar's are evil, you won't miss 'em. We'll find ways to simulate that smell. What a sorry fella! Rolled up and smoked like a collicella, here on level one of Robot Hell!
Gambling's wrong and so is cheating, so is f orging phony I.O.U.s. Let's let Lady Luck decide what type of torture's justified, I'm pit force here on level two!
Ooh, deep-fried robot!
SoldierBot: Just tell me why!
Spy: Just read this fifty-five page warrant.
SoldierBot: There must be robots worse than I!
Spy: We checked around, there really aren't.
SoldierBot: Then please let me explain, my crimes were merely boyish pranks.
Spy: You stole from boy scouts, nuns and banks!
SoldierBot: Aw, don't blame me, blame my upbringing!
Spyl: Please stop sinning while I'm singing!
Selling bootleg tapes is wrong, musicians need that income to survive.
Scout: Hey, Bender gonna make some noise! With your hard drive scratched by the Beastie Boys!
(Record scratching sounds)
That's what-cha what-cha what-cha get on level five!
Engineer: I don't feel well!
Sentry: It's up to us to rescue him.
Engineer: Maybe he likes it here in hell?
Sentry: It's us who tempted him to sin.
Engineer: Maybe he's back at the motel?
Sentry: Come on, Fry, don't be scared! I'm sure at least one of us will be spared, so sit back and enjoy the ride.
Engineer: My ass has blisters from the slide!
Spy: Fencing diamonds, fixing cockfights, publishing indecent magazines. You'll pay for every crime! Knee-deep in electric slime! You'll suffer 'till the end of time, enduring tortures, most of which rhyme, trapped forever, here in Robot Hell!