Dr. Evil: Our early attempts at a tractor beam went through several preparations. Preparations A through G were a complete failure. But now, ladies and gentlemen, we finally have a working tractor beam, which we shall call... Preparation H. [Scott snickers] What?
Scott Evil: Why don't you just call it operation ass-cream, you ass.
Dr. Evil: I'm sorry, did you say you want some ice cream?
Scott Evil: Yes, I'd love some chocolate ass-cream.
Dr. Evil: Perhaps later.
Number 2: Dr. Evil, I love your plan.

Number 2: Dr. Evil, can you continue with your plan?
Dr. Evil: Of course, Number 2, our plan is SCOTTY DON'T.
Scott Evil: Oh, come on, you're such a lame ass.

While you were in space, I created a way for us to make huge sums of legitimate money, and still maintain the ethics and the business practices of an evil organization. I have turned us into talent agency; the Hollywood Talent Agency.

Number 2

Goldmember: Dr. Evil, we still have the ultimate insurance policy. May I present to you, the very sexual, the very toite, Austin Power's fahza.
Dr. Evil: His what?
Number 2: His fahza, Dr. Evil.
Dr. Evil: His farger? What's a farger?
Goldmember: His fahza. You know, the fahza.
Dr. Evil: You know Goldmember, I don't speak freaky-deaky Dutch. Okay, perv boy?
Goldmember: Fahza, his dad, dad is fahza.
Dr. Evil: Oh, his dad. His FA-THER.

Number Two: Why not use your knowledge of the future to play the stock markets? We could make trillions.
Dr. Evil: Why make a trillion when we could make... billions?
Scott: A trillion's more than a billion, numb nuts.

Dr. Evil: Okay, here's the plan. We get the warhead and then hold the world ransom for... 1 MILLION dollars!
Number Two: Sir, strictly speaking, a million dollars will not go very far these days. Virtucon alone makes over 9 billion dollars a year.
Dr. Evil: Really? Okay then... we hold the world ransom for one... hundred... BILLION dollars!!!

Casino Dealer: 17.
Number Two: Hit me.
Casino Dealer: You have 17, sir.
Number Two: I like to live dangerously.
Casino Dealer: 21. Very good, sir.
Austin Powers: [has 5] I'll stay.
Casino Dealer: I suggest you hit, sir.
Austin Powers: I also like to live dangerously.
Casino Dealer: 20 beat your 5 sir. I'm sorry, sir.
Austin Powers: Well I must admit, cards aren't my bag, baby.

Austin Powers: What exactly do you do, Mr. Number Two?
Number Two: That's my business. Now if you'll excuse, I have to go to the little boys' room.

Dr. Evil: You know, I have one simple request. And that is to have sharks with frickin' laser beams attached to their heads! Now evidently my cycloptic colleague informs me that that cannot be done. Ah, would you remind me what I pay you people for, honestly? Throw me a bone here! What do we have?
Number Two: Sea Bass.
Dr. Evil: [pause] Right.
Number Two: They're mutated sea bass.
Dr. Evil: Are they ill tempered?
Number Two: Absolutely.
Dr. Evil: Oh well, that's a start.

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