The next time I buy a car I'm going to say, "I don't think [that Geo Metro] is not worth that much" just to see the salesman's reaction. "Uh... I'll need to get my manager." "Yeah? You just don't go not get him, then!"
But you don't have to not agree with the "leader of the bunch." I mean, four thousand shoons?!? What a rip off! Wait, no, that sounds about right. What's a shoon again? Is it two solomacas? Are shoons convertible on the intergalactic money index fund?
Once the heartpounding suspense of setting the price is over, the paratiod (Rex) has some questions for his fellow carven-dweller, like, "Will I be melted?" And, "Does this carvern have wi-fi?"
Then Rex gets a nice self-esteem boost, which sends him not into shock, but a state of relief. Look, he's a paratiod. He can do stuff like that.
We also learn that Rex is made up of maniods and cliods and such, but they forgot to put in his BRAIN. "Uh... what planet am I on, again?" Even the husky-sized robot can't believe how stupid Rex is. Maybe instead of a sci-fi novel, GALAXY REVOLT should have been a stoner comedy.
"Is Cliod's moon there, man?"
"Cliod's moon ain't here, man."
"Whoa. What planet am I on?"
"Don't you know, man?" *coughs*
"I just never got around to it. Hey, don't bogart my jarvas weed!"
"Who are you, man?"
"I'm Cliod's moon, man."
"No, man, I'm Cliod's moon."
"Shit, is that a blinding light--? We gonna die, man!!"
Ha ha. And a new genre is born.