Dennis: “Charlee! Chaplin! What are you doing in the mythical land of Hungary?”
Chaplin: “We’re here to bring you back home to California!”
Felix Leiter:”Those cats have some sharp-looking tuxedos.”

Dennis: “Oh great! But how did you get here? NASA confiscated my Magic Flying Coaster on account of it ‘defies the laws of physics’ or something.”
Charlee: “We flew here in a basket carried by that cranky turtle with all the balloons!”
Felix Leiter: “I wonder who their tailor is.”

Dennis: “Oh great! That sure was nice of him to help us out like that.”
Chaplin: “Well, we owe him $17,000 before he’ll take us back.”
Dennis: “$17,000? Where are we going to get that kind of cabbage?”
Felix Leiter: “They need bow ties though. Bow ties are cool.”

Chaplin: “We’re supposed to win it by gambling. They gave us chips at the front desk. But we lost them all.”
Dennis: “You lost them all? Already? How? Where?”
Chaplin: “We lost them under furniture, down heating vents, in people’s shoes …”
Charlee: “Oh my gosh! Dennis! You should have seen how those things skidded on the tile floors here! We batted them all over the place! It was so awesome!”
Chaplin: “… so you’ll have to win the money for us.”

Dennis: “I see. Say, Mr. Bond, how do I know if I’m winning at this game?”
James Bond: “You can’t know for sure, but if you look at the cards in your paw, they may whisper of good fortune.”

But then …

Charlee: “Dennis? Why don’t you have any cards?”
Dennis: “Well I was nervous, and when I’m nervous, I like to shred cardboard, so I thought that’s why the dealer gave them to me.”

Dennis: “Is it too late to ask for a Gilligan?”
Le Chiffre: “I think you mean a ‘mulligan’. And yes, it is.”
Gilligan: “Sorry, I’m busy collecting the chips that somebody scattered all over the building.”

Meanwhile …

Producer Smurf: “I still haven’t smurfed a ‘thank you’ for me using my royalties from Peyo to smurf us past that snooty ambassador and into the casino.”
Spicoli: “Dude. It’s not like you spent any of your loot on a bribe. You bashed him over the head with the bag and screamed ‘They’re not footie pajama pants!'”
Producer Smurf: “Well they’re not!”
Mouse: “All of you quit bickering. I’m almost done wiring up this slot machine to give us the jackpot we need to pay the turtle. Mr. Nibbles, has anyone noticed us yet?”
Mr. Nibbles: “No. A bunch of people are looking under furniture and inside heating ducts, for some reason, and security is trying to get the turtle to stop eating all the lettuce in the salad bar, and, oh, it looks like there’s some kind of commotion at the poker table involving somebody who ate all the cards.”
Mouse: “Well I guess we know where Dennis is, then.”