Biker Mice from Mars

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Biker Mice from Mars is an award-winning sci-fi series developed for television by Rick Ungar and Tom Tataranowicz. The original show lasted 1993-96 and a remake premiered in 2006 (2008 in America due to dubbing and production problems). Both versions of the show show focus on the planet Mars and its race of anthropomorphic mice who are fighting off their enemies (Plutark, the Catatonian Empire, or Ronaldo Rump) to keep their planet safe.


Biker Mice: Let's rock...and RIDE!
Throttle: Time to rock 'em and sock 'em!
Modo: Let's rock 'em 'til we drop 'em!
Vinnie: What a rush!

Season 1[edit]

Rock and Ride [1.1][edit]

[Vinnie has the TV in the spaceship tuned to a race with a split-second finish.]
Vinnie: Hey, Throttle, watch me past that snorkel from Saturn! Oh, yeah! I'm the baddest mammajammer in the whole wide universe!
Throttle: Modest, too!
[Modo drinks a can of root beer.]
Modo: Ah, this is living! Nothing to do but rockin' and rollin' and racin' through the cosmos! Yep! We got absolutely no...[ship is attacked by Plutarkians]...problem?

Throttle: Hold it up. [all three stop] Listen to this. [revs his engine]] Oh! Dang! Busted gyro!
Vinnie: No sweat, sweetheart. We find us a cycle parts shop and I'll have it fixed for you pronto.
Modo: I don't know. We've been all around these streets and I haven't seen a repair pit yet.

[Grease Pit is trying to persuade Charley to give in to Lawrence Limburger's demands.]
Charley: Tell your slimy boss that I don't care how much money he has. The Last Chance Garage is mine, and it's NOT for sale!
Grease Pit: You's not being wise, lady! Mr. Limburger wants this land, and what Lawrence Limburger wants, Lawrence Limburger gets!
Charley: Listen, you overgrown grease monkey! You got 10 seconds to vacate this place or I'm going to vacate your face!
Grease Pit: [sarcastically] Oh, I'm shakin', lady! You see me shakin'?
[Oil continues to ooze everywhere. Charley reaches for a lever.]
Charley: Unh! Why don't you just ooze off and tell your slimy boss that he can just SHOVE IT?! [She pulls the lever of her lift and it flattens Grease Pit when it hits the ceiling.] What the heck? My lift needed a grease job anyway! [She kicks one of her oil collection cans toward where it's dropping oil.]
Grease Pit: You's a-starting to annoy me big time!
[Grease Pit gets himself down from the lift back to the floor. Charley tries to flee but falls down on the floor. Grease Pit walks up to her.]
Grease Pit: Maybe now you'll see Mr. Limburger's generous offer in a new light!
[Vinnie suddenly appears in the door.]
Vinnie: Say, there, citizen. Why don't you leave the lady alone?
Grease Pit: Huh? And who’s gonna make me, wrench-face?
Vinnie: "Who's gonna make me?" Heh, Hey, "Who's gonna make me" is my middle name. I'M GONNA MAKE YA! [He grabs one of the flares from his crossbelt, lights it, and burns a rope hanging from the ceiling, using it in Tarzan style to attack Grease Pit, but he misses.] Oh, man! [He hits the wall legs first, with the legs at a 90 degree angle upward to his chest.]
Grease Pit: Aw, what's the matter? The wittle bitty baby biker hurt himself? Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Get up and fight, you loser! What are ya, a man or a mouse?
[Throttle and Modo kick their way through the glass on this cue and land in front of Grease Pit.]
Modo: Mouse.
Throttle: You got a problem with that?
Grease Pit: [to Charley] This is one crummy place you got here. It’s crawlin’ with rats!
Modo: RAT?! [His eye glows red as he's being prone to anger.] MY MOMMA DIDN'T RAISE NO STINKIN' RAT! UNDERSTAND?!
Throttle: It's tail-whipping time!
[They battle. Throttle uses his tail to do a wrap-around routine so that Grease Pit is inside, then lets go while Modo aims for a bunch of tires. The tires surround Grease Pit's waist and he ends up on the floor at the feet of Vinnie.]
Vinnie: Time to roll, sweetheart! [He kicks the tires. Grease Pit rolls out the door.]
Grease Pit: Mr. Limburger ain't gonna like this! [Crash outside.]
Vinnie: Talk about your slippery customers!
Modo: Heh, yeah! They could call him the "duke of oil!"
Vinnie and Modo: [singing badly] Duke, duke, duke, duke of oil, oil, oil, oil, duke...
Throttle: [interrupting while covering his ears] Guys, guys, guys, guys, guys, guys! You're off-key!
Vinnie and Modo: [start singing again, this time to the tune of "With A Little Help From My Friends" by the Beatles]. Heh, heh. What would you do if we sang a bad tune? [They laugh. Throttle still has his ears covered.]
Throttle: I give up! [to Charley] You okay, ma'am?
[Charley grabs a wrench]: Don't you come any closer, you, you...
Throttle: Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, hey, hey, hey! Don't break a nail! We just came in to get my bike fixed!
Modo: Yeah! We're the good guys!
Vinnie: Talk about no appreciation!
Charley: [in shock] I don't believe this! I've just been saved by a bunch of giant...gerbils?
Throttle: Mice, ma'am. We're mice.
Charley: Mice?
Modo: You were expecting turtles, maybe?
Charley: [skeptically] Mice! With antennas, and biker clothes, and motorcycles, and...
Vinnie: [flexes his body] Don't forget your basic studdly bods!
Charley: I've seen better!
Vinnie: Maybe, but not with this much charm!
Charley: Where on Earth did you guys come from?
Modo: Mars.
Charley: Mars?
Throttle: Mars.
Charley: Mars?!
Vinnie: Is there an echo in here?
Modo: I don't think she likes our answers!
Charley: [skeptically] Mars! Right! I don't believe this. I think you guys better explain yourselves.
Throttle: [sighs] Okay, look. It's a long story. You see, our planet was invaded by a race of smelly stink-faces called Plutarkians. Here. I'll show you.
[His antennas glow and he places them on Charley's head. She sees a clearer picture of what the Biker Mice are talking about, and the camera switches to what she's seeing.]
Throttle: [continuing thought] Now, the Plutarkians wanted our land, right? Seems they wasted all their own natural resources so they go around strip-mining the cosmos.
Charley: [voiceover] So they blew up your planet?
Modo: [voiceover] Nah. They bought up our planet. Tore the place apart and dug up the land to ship back to Plutark.
Throttle: [voiceover] Right. Well, the mice population fought back, but most of us were wiped out. [His antennas stop glowing as the camera switches back to the Last Chance Garage, and he takes them off Charley's head.] Modo here gave his arm to the cause. And Vinnie got half his face taken off. That's why he wears the mask.
Vinnie: Yeah, but that's okay, because what's left is definitely "grade A" mouse material!
Charley: In your dreams, pal! You know, the way you guys describe what these, uh, Plutarkians did to your planet, I think you ought to check something out. [She opens her front door to reveal a bunch of trucks hauling off supplies] From the looks of things, I'd say, they're here!

Limburger: Oh! Just try and get good help these days! [to Grease Pit] Now, as I recall, I sent you to purchase the Last Chance Garage. Is this correct?
Grease Pit: Uh, yes, boss.
Limburger: And I believe you were then to demolish it?
Grease Pit: That's right, boss.
Grease Pit: I-It wasn't my fault, boss. Honest. You see, there were these big mice!

[Limburger tunes his communication TV to Karbunkle's lab, where Karbunkle is doing something to Fred the Mutant.]
Limburger: Karbunkle?
Karbunkle: Yes, your big cheesiness?
Limburger: Do you recall those mice who escaped your laboratory on Mars? The three leaders of that pathetic rebellion?
Karbunkle: Yes, most frustrating. [inserts brain into Fred's head and staples head] I had barely started experimenting on them when they got away!
[Fred opens his eyes and looks around, then speaks to Karbunkle.]
Fred: Hey, doc? How about 4 arms? Then I could clap in stereo!
[Fred begins to clap but Karbunkle slams a cork into his mouth.]
Karbunkle: Oh, shut up!
Limburger: Karbunkle! Pay attention! Those Biker rebels have now come to Earth, and I want to know what you are going to do about it!
Karbunkle: Well, your cheddar cheesiness, if you wish to catch a mouse...[He presses a button that starts a platform up to the main office floor where Limburger and Grease Pit are standing and reveals a steel trap.] must build a better mouse trap!

Limburger: Your mouse trap was less than a success. If you can't take care of those repulsive rodents, we're through on this planet!
Karbunkle: Well, if one has rats in the attic, there's but one thing to do! [He summons the Exterminator through his portal device.] Exterminate them!

Limburger: Exterminate them!

Throttle: You guys take Limburger's goon squad! I'll handle the big fella!
[They drive off and split up as planned. Modo fires a pair of missiles at a thug, knocking him off his buggy and into a trash can]
Modo: What a flat-head!
[Another goon follows Modo into an alley.]
Goon: Looks like I cornered me a big fat rat!
[Modo's eye glows.]
Modo: RATS to you, pal! [He fires a blast of his arm cannon at the goon's buggy.]
[Several other goons chase Vinnie down the main streets of Chicago.]
Vinnie: It's been real, sweethearts, but now, it's time for lights out! [He grabs a flare and throws it at two of the goons. The resulting explosion knocks them out.] Yes! Double play!
[The Exterminator continues to chase Throttle until they come to a factory building.]
Throttle: Come and get me, tin man!
Exterminator: End of the road, rodent!
[They go into the building. Throttle catches the Exterminator off guard as he goes up a wooden ramp and into a pit of boiling chocolate. He starts to sink.]
Exterminator: I'll be back!
Throttle: Yeah? Well, don't forget to write!
[Throttle watches the Exterminator sink.]

[The Mice have just witnessed their spaceship, still hanging from the Chicago Nubs scoreboard, fall completely inside.]
Throttle: [bangs his hand to his head] Oh! Typical! Just great!
Charley: Well, if you're stuck here on Earth, this place will make as good a hideout as any.
Throttle: What? Here? In the scoreboard?!
Charley: Why not? Limburger and his grease goons would never think to look for you here!
[The Mice confer with one another and approve it.]
Vinnie: Well, now that we've got the bachelor pad thing together, what do you say we grab a little chow?
Charley: I know a great cheese shop downtown!
[The Mice groan in disgust.]
Modo: What do you think we are anyway?
Charley: Uh, mice!
Vinnie: I was thinking maybe a few root beers. A couple of dogs...
Throttle: Okay, group, then let's...
Vinnie: I got this one, sweetheart! [He tail-whips Charley onto his bike.] Okay, you mammajammers! Let's ROCK...
All: ...and RIDE!

Test of Friendship [1.6][edit]

[Karbunkle, Limburger, and Grease Pit drive up to a railroad station, and Grease Pit is looking through Limburger's trunk for a specific weapon.]
Karbunkle: Will you hurry, you misapplied misenthrope?! [Grease Pit trips over Karbunkle's leg and stumbles around with the weapon.] Be careful, you dimwitted disaster! That's a delicate instrument!
[Grease Pit falls down and the weapon lands in its desired spot.]
Grease Pit: There! Delicately placed right where you's wanted it!
Karbunkle: Ugh! Greasy-fingered gibbon!
[He turns on the device and an eerie blue glow surrounds the weapon. Grease Pit stares at it as Limburger gets out of his car.]
Limburger: If you pathetic paltroons have concluded your little display of ineptitude...[train whistle]...the ore train appears to be on time.
Grease Pit: Huh? [He slides into the glow and half of his body is seen viewing a 5,000 foot drop into the Plutark Supply Station. Limburger pulls him out.] Aaaah!
Limburger: My dear, seqious Grease Pit, if I had wanted you in orbit, I'D HAVE KICKED YOU THERE MYSELF! Now go man that switch!
[Limburger kicks Grease Pit towards a control switch. Grease Pit hits it and the track moves slightly.]
Grease Pit: Whoa. Good job, huh, boss?
[He proceeds to fall down elsewhere after struggling to move the switch and finally move it so that the track heads for the glow.]
Karbunkle: Yet another ingenious plan, your cream cheesiness!
Limburger: Yes! Why soil ourselves digging when I can simply steal a whole train load of iron ore? That train will enter the transport tunnel and be instantly transported into space for delivery to Plutark. [As he says this, he tosses a rock into the glow.] A brilliant plan if I do say so myself. It simply can't fail!
[Grease Pit's view catches a glimpse of the Biker Mice.]
Grease Pit: Uh, boss?
Limburger: Not now, dear boy. I'm enjoying myself!
Grease Pit: That brilliant plan of yours?
Limburger: Yes, what of it?
Grease Pit: It just got infested WITH MICE!

Limburger: Grease Pit, if you would please, FIRE ON THEM!

Chill Zone [1.12][edit]

[The Mice have just saved the orphan children from the storm caused by the Weathermesiter.]
Vinnie: Well, it looks like the storm's over.
Throttle: For now.
Modo: You little tikes okay?
Girl: Yeah, we're okay, but our house is all smashed down, and it's almost Christmas.
Modo: [sheds a tear] Dang! It's just like that old movie!

Limburger: Drat! Those bothersome Biker Mice have beaten the bombardment!
Karbunkle: Yes, your fragrant fulsomeness! And not only that; they appear to have discovered your dabbling in the disaster!
Limburger: [clears throat] It might be wise not to be here when they arrive! How's Lake Michigan?
Weathermeister: [pulls out map] Almost a solid block of ice, dear cheesemesiter!
[Laser fire commences from the Mice's bikes.]
[The tower shakes.]
Limburger: Shall we depart? And hastily?
Weathermeister: You'd better come with me, then, Limburger. [snaps finger and plane appears] Please step aboard my weather plane.

Vinnie: [to Limburger] Have a nice winter, and a great fall! [laughs triumphantly]
Modo: [to Throttle] Guess you were right. Must be fall!

[Limburger's top part of his tower is now functioning as the new home for the oprhan kids and Christmas decorations are on top of it, and all three mice are dressed up in Santa costumes.]
Toby: Gee. How'd you ever get us this great new house, Santa Throttle?
Throttle: Well, Toby, let's just say it was a contribution from a big man in the business world.
Modo: Anyway, litte dogies, 'twas the night before Christmas...
Throttle: ...and all through the house...
Vinnie: ...not a creature was stirring...
Biker Mice: ...EXCEPT FOR THE MICE! [They start to cheer as Vinnie laughs, Throttle whistles, and Modo shouts, "Party!" The camera zooms in on Limburger, Karbunkle, and the Weathermeister who are hanging by a thread from the weather plane which is stuck on the roof.]
Limburger: [after a snowflake hits his face] BAH, HUMBUG! [blows snowflake off as episode ends]

Vinnie: Man, I've heard of dreaming of a White Christmas, but this is more like a nightmare!

Season 2[edit]

Steal of the Century[edit]

[Explosions can be seen as Limburger is working on his new plaza. Limburger is watching from his office.]
Limburger: Ah, urban renewal! Soon this whole area will become my new multi-million dollar industry's mega-plaza. [He looks at a map.] From this central plaza my delirious holding shall expand worldwide. Strip-mining in San Francisco. Clear-cutting in Cincinnati. Demolition in Detroit!
[A laser from Vinnie's bike hits Limburger's map.]
Vinnie: Hey, sewage breath!
Limburger: WHAT?
[Limburger sees the Mice are on top of another building.]
Throttle: We felt you were being a bit hasty with your new project.
Modo: Yeah, so we thought we'd help out by moving some of your explosive around.
[He gestures towards the bottom of the Limburger tower, which has dynamite by it that proceeds to explode and start the tower's gradual downfall.]
Limburger: Oh, my! AAAAAH!
[He grabs on to a windowseil and hangs on for dear life.]
Modo: Ha! Get a grip, stink face!
Vinnie: Yeah! This is what they call a "clutch play!"
[The Mice laugh.]
Limburger: Crack wise all you wish, you cratinous creatures! But I shall indeed have the last laugh, for I observe you have overlooked one of my explosive charges!
[The Mice look down and see the building they are standing on top of has dynamite around it. Fred the Mutant is setting up the dynamite.]
Fred: Oh, boy! It's like my birthday every day! [laughs]
[Limburger laughs before realizing he's let go of the windowseil. He struggles to grab it again but eventually does. Modo is in shock.]
Modo: Uh-oh!
Vinnie: Guess this blows our plan, eh, bros?
[The Mice run to their bikes.]
Fred: [laughs as he gets ready to push the dynamite activator down] Make a wish! WHOOPEE!
[Fred pushes down the activator and the explosion starts to demolish the building. Limburger smiles.]
Limburger: So glad I could hang around to witness your downfall, Biker Mice!
Modo: Punch it, bros!
[The Mice rev up their engines.]
Limburger: Turnabout is, after all, fair play!

[The Mice just got out of the now-demolished building and Vinnie, having door-surfed, is proud of himself.]
Vinnie: YEAH! Some pretty studdly moves there!
Modo: Well, that's mighty nice of you to say that, Vinnie!
Vinnie: Not you, bro! I was talking about ME!
Throttle: What a surprise!
Modo: Yeah, you're always talking about you, but you know, we do some pretty cool stuff, too, you know.
Vinnie: Well, yeah, but...
Throttle: That's right, big fella! We're not just "hanging around!"
Throttle: [laughs] Speaking of "hanging around..."
[Limburger's pants suddenly rip.]
Limburger: My!
[He turns and sees his underwear, red with pictures of cheese on it, is showing. The Mice don't see it and continue to taunt him as they load up their weapons.]
Modo: Sorry to let you down, cheese fin...
Throttle: ...but speaking of "let down..."
Vinnie: It's time you felt the gravity of the situation!
[They aim their missles at the tower.]
Limburger: Please! No! Not like this!
[The Mice fire their missles.]
[The Mice drive off as the tower collapses.]
Modo: Like I said, we do some pretty good work!
[The Mice high-five each other as they ride back to Quigley Field.]

Bleu Cheese Bros[edit]

Charley: Well, you know, Julian Prison has announced that they're looking for more prison guards.
Vinnie: Moi? In a prison guard uniform? Sweetheart, drab is not my color!
Charley: Not you! I meant me!
Vinnie: You? A prison guard? [chuckles] Cute! Lock me up and throw away the key!
Charley: I know I've been tempted at times.
Throttle: No, no, I don't think so. It's too dangerous, Charley. We'll handle it.
Charley: What? Locking up Vinnie?

Modo: So, we gonna blast our way in?
Throttle: Nah, it's not the best of ideas, big fella. I mean, that's government property. We gotta play this one by the book.
Vinnie: By the book, eh? Well, then, it's simple. We get ourselves in trouble, let the police nail us, and whammo! It's a free ride into Limburger's fat lap!
Modo: Yeah! Once we're inside, we can figure out a way to sneak the bikes in.
Throttle: Hmm, it's risky.
Vinnie: Difficult.
Modo: And dangerous.

Throttle: [sarcastically] Oh, no, bros, look! Red light!
Modo: Looks like we've run out of running room.
Vinnie: Oooh, we're trapped like ra--
[Modo glares at him, eye glowing threateningly]
Vinnie: Uh, mice. [chuckles nervously] Mice.

Dialouge: 2006 Series[edit]

Rumpity Dumpster[edit]

[Throttle has just noticed the explosions coming from Rump's tower.]
Throttle: I guess old moneybags has finally worn out, bros.
Modo: Yeah, this is something I need front row seats for.
Vinnie: I wouldn't miss this for all the hot dogs at Quigley Field!
[They drive up to the tower and notice it's totaled.]
Throttle: [whistles] Looks like Rump's crib is totaled! [chuckles] I guess that's going to shave his hiney butt good!
Charley: Hey, guys! There he is!
[Rump walks out of the tower with the Regenerator all black from the explosion, and has lost his memory.]
Charley: At least I think that's him.
Vinnie: Oh, loving the new look! Very Martian eye for the slimy guy!

Here Come the Judge[edit]

Throttle: Whoa, whoa, Vincent! That's the, no...third street sign you've wasted this week! I'm calling a 2 root beer penalty!
Vinnie: ME? What makes you think it was yours truly? It could've been you, you know.
Modo: I'm pretty sure it was you, bro.
Vinnie: How come I'm always the first to get sought with the blame? You guys sure know how to buzz-kill a nice Sunday morning joyride!
Throttle: Well, you'd better consider getting over it, amigo!
Modo: 'Cuz the real fun's about to begin! Heh! The Bridge to Nowhere! Chicago's very own monument of port-barrell politics.
Vinnie: Oh, and the baddest motorcycle jump on this side of the RAD STATES!
Throttle: Push 'em into high gear, bros. Last one across is a rancid cheese!
Modo: And whatever you do, don't look down!
[They go off the jump.]




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