Diphtheria: Hey. Hey. Nice try, setting that little guy up as your boss. I know you’re the one who’s really in charge here. Whatever you want with this planet, you can’t have it. It’s mine! I have files on forty different species. I know where you came from. Try anything and I’ll get your butt kicked.
Kila: Don’t understand. Little girl, I’m not joking, you know. I understood maybe two words of that.
Diphtheria: By the toll of a billion deaths man has bought his birthright of the earth, and it is his against all comers; it would still be his were the Martians ten times as mighty as they are…
Kila: Okay then.