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More from Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery

Scott Evil: I was thinking I like animals. Maybe I’d be a vet.
Dr. Evil: An evil vet?
Scott Evil: No! Maybe like work in a petting zoo.
Dr. Evil: An evil petting zoo?
Scott Evil: You always do that!

Austin Powers: Who does Number Two work for? Who does Number Two work for?
Cowboy: Yeah, that’s it! You show that turd who’s boss.

Austin Powers: As long as people are still having promiscuous sex with many anonymous partners while at the same time experimenting with mind-expanding drugs in a consequence-free environment, I’ll be sound as a pound!

Dr. Evil: My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low-grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a 15 year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink, he would make outrageous claims, like he invented the question mark. Sometimes, he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy – the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical: summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring, we’d make meat helmets. When I was insolent, I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds. Pretty standard, really.

Scott Evil: I just think, like, he hates me. I really think he wants to kill me.
Therapist: He doesn’t really want to kill you. Sometimes we just say that.
Dr. Evil: No actually the boy is quite astute. I really am trying to kill him, but so far unsuccessfully. He’s quite wily like his old man.