"Nipple check! Both there! My day can continue as planned!"

It's a dark day on a littered beach. Suddenly by some odd mix of medical and industrial trash, a new lifeform steps from the sea: "Welcome to Psychic Talk USA!"

I don't know John...Using a laser to cure a failing libido may not be a real sound idea

"Why Will! Your lobotomy scars healed up nicely!" "Pudding mother!"

"Titty Twister mode again Dr. Smith?"

Suddenly, the Kellogg's Raisen Bran Sun collapses on himself and forms a void of time and space.

Smith waits to see if anyone else comes out of the closet.

Sadly Dr.Smith had to hide all his pretty things so that Will wouldn't wear them.

"And for you Robot, you've had a heart all along, and you Mr. Smith you've had courage all along... Hmm, better hop on over to The Pleasure Chest and get Smith's."

The Doctor has programmed me for evil. Crush, kill, destroy... pinchy, pinchy, pinchy.

OK, I found the riding crop. Who's first?

Well....you know what time it is, Will *snap*

"Gee Dr. Smith! Are you SURE that's a port-a-potty?" "Quiet my boy!" "But it LOOKS like a Coke Machine!" "Hush! Ahhh... it's cold in here."

"Why does everybody hate me so? What have I done that was so wrong?" "But Dr. Smith--" "Silence, you slinkyarmed slovenly shitbrain!"

"Crush my finger."