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West: Gordon, what's your plan for getting this thing off my neck?
Gordon: Excuse me?
West: Well, that's what you're here for, right? You're the master of this mechanical stuff.
Gordon: -laughs- Oh ho ho, I see. Now I'm the master of the mechanical stuff. As opposed to five minutes ago, when I was calmly and coolly trying to find a solution to this very problem. But then something happened. Someone, who will remain nameless — JIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEST!!! — decided to jump over the wire, thereby providing us with that exhilarating romp through the cornfield, and that death-defying leap into the abysmal muck! And here we stand, while that demented maniac is hurtling towards our President on our one and only mode of transportation, with Rita as his prisoner, armed with God-knows-what machinery of mass destruction, with the simple intention of overturning our government and taking over the country!
West: Gordon, I think you need to calm down.
Gordon: I can't be calm! Oh, no, no, no, no, I'm the Master of the Mechanical STUFF! And I have to help you! You, the master of the STUPID STUFF! You want your collar off, I'll get it off! I don't have a gun, otherwise I'd shoot it off! Here, in true Jim West style, I'll just bash it with a rock!
Gordon: We have training, we have a sense of purpose, and we have the element of surprise! So, what does Loveless have?
-They crest the hill to see Loveless City-
Gordon: Well... he has his own city.
-Loveless' spider-mecha crests the hill in front of them and stomps over their heads-
West: He has an eighty-foot tarantula.
Gordon: Yes, well... I was coming to that.
The Southern party. Especially the hanging scene.
West: [whistles] I'd like to have everyone's attention for a moment. It seems we have had a series of major misunderstandings here, and... I'd like to take a minute to clear a few of them up. First of which... the whole drummin' on the boobies thing. Now, in my native land—
West: ...Africa, we use drums to communicate between villages. And as you can see by this gal, we could communicate all the way to Baton Rouge. Hell, on a clear night, we might even get Galveston! All I was saying to the gal, was... "Hi... how you doing, my name's Jim... how's your momma..." Then there was that whole "redneck" comment. And I get the feeling y'all took that negatively. But let's break down that word, "redneck": First word, red. Color of passion, fire, power. Second word, neck... neck...
-Southerners wait expectantly-
West: ...okay, I can't think of anything for neck right now, but without it y'all still got red, and that's something to be proud of. And to be honest — the whole slavery thing — I don't know what the big deal is anyway. I mean — [points at random southerner] — are you really gonna get your big fat ass up out of bed and pick your own damn cotton?
-Southerner looks slightly offended-
West: I didn't think so. So come on y'all, let's back inside! Get ourselves some grub, kick this shindig off the right way, c'mon, let's — [indicating noose] — come on, put this — this thing away...
West: ...alright, now hold on, hold on. I stand before you as a man realizing that I have done something wrong. And I'd like to take a minute to make that right. [To woman] Will you marry me?
-Big-breasted woman gasps-
West: [imitates gasp] That means no. Okay, listen — would it make you feel any better if I said I thought you were a man?
-Big-breasted woman faints-
"You're in for a big surprise when you get this one in the saddle."
One of the cyborgs that West runs into on the giant spider turns out to have blades instead of hands. He pops the first blade out, and West shows him the knife that that Gordon "took the liberty of installing" in his boot while he was asleep. Knife Guy shows him the other one, and when West tries to duck and run, he briefly shows off with them. West... settles for waggling his boot threateningly.
West trying to fight the cyborg with the metal cranium.
Gordon: Which is not to say Rita doesn't possess a beauty worthy of a Shakespeare sonnet or a Botticelli painting. My god, the curvature of her buttocks and the swell of that magnificent bosom. So full, so sumptous, so... [turns and notices Rita] ...what were all those foreign ministers doing at Loveless' party? This is what really puzzles me, did you have any idea there were so many, so foreign, so... [quietly to West] How long has she been here?
West: Somewhere around "Botticelli's buttocks".
"West, not every situation calls for your patented approach of 'shoot first, shoot later, shoot some more, and then, when everybody's dead, try to ask a question or two'."
Just the level of absolute resignation in Gordon's voice as he says: