Wendy: Thank you for calling AND Laboratories, rescrambling your DNA, how may I direct your call?
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The Middleman: Tell the truth if you want, but if you do I’ll going to have to root you like a hog and kill you.
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The Middleman: So, what's it going to be: Keep the secret, or death?
Wendy: What do you think?
The Middleman: Ma'am, specificity is the soul of all good communication.
Wendy: Yes. Duh.
The Middleman: Outstanding. You're good under pressure.
Wendy: Are you hitting on me?
The Middleman: Just making an observation.
Wendy: Hellooo, nutjob, party of one.
The Middleman: No, ma'am. I'm just The Middleman.
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Wendy: What kind of temp agency is this?
Ida: (deadpan) The kind that wants to put you in the satisfying and high-paying world of temporary employment.
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The Middleman: You know how in comic books there’s all kinds of mad scientists and aliens and androids and monsters, and all of them either want to destroy or take over the world?
Wendy: In the comic books.
The Middleman: Well it really does work like that.
Wendy: Get out.
The Middleman: You already forgot what you saw?
Wendy: And you’re the superhero?
The Middleman: I never wear tights.
Wendy: I’m crushed.
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The Middleman: What makes more sense? That a monster trashed a science lab or that a gas main exploded? If I hadn't planted your Zippo some pink skin normal would have still come up with a rational explanation. People want to believe reality's normal. The ones who don't are freaks and no one believes them anyway.
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Wendy: What’s with the camera, are we making a movie?
Ben: I guess you could say that.
Wendy: Kinky. Should I bust out the feathered boa and the accordion?
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Wendy: Oh, I don't do dress code after sundown.
The Middleman: It's bad apples like you who put J. Edger Hoover in a dress.
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Wendy: Well who do you work for?
The Middleman: I got recruited, the exact same way you did. When the last Middleman hired me, he never said and I never asked. Ida was already there, so were all the weapons and gadgets and things. Sometimes a box comes in with weapons and things and stuff. I don’t know where they come from. Maybe Ida runs the show, maybe it’s a conspiracy. Maybe it’s God. I’m just the Middleman.
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Dr. Gibbs: This is Zippy. We had to boost his intelligence three times to get him to stop painting those damn soup cans.
Wendy: Not bad for a classical realist.
Dr. Gibbs: Art snob.
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The Middleman: (drinking milk) You know, that was some darn fine cow squirt.
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Ben: I’m such a dolt. I thought that it would be art. Seemed like a good idea at the time.
Wendy: So did the Carter administration.
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The Middleman: I don't get it, why the Mob?
Dr. Gibbs: Money! Fast, tax-free cash money. This is a federally-funded lab. Every year the government is less and less interested in making smarter apes and every year they slash my budget. Without money, I will never fulfill my dream.
The Middleman: What dream?
Dr. Gibbs: To build an army of genetically engineered super-apes...
Dr. Gibbs/The Middleman: ...and take over the world.
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The Middleman: No more monologuing, or I'll Swiss-cheese you on principle.
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Wendy: You're not gonna stop calling me "Dubbie," are you?
The Middleman: Not a gosh darn chance in heck!
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