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I'll tell you all something I've learned over the years with my friends. You can save the galaxy and take down scores. You can save millions of people by killing a few bad ones. You can do it all -- you just gotta tell yourself, and believe it when you say it -- "I'm the baddest mother @#$&#$% in the whole universe."
What in the unholy #%$ϵ@ is going on here? You. You come here, pop out of a cell like some sort of stripper at a birthday of death, and lay waste to half my guards. I'm Lord Rakzoon! Who the $@#% are... you?
Don't worry about what I'm gonna do with this dumb planet and its dumb people. Worry about getting that camera out of my face before I boom! Murder you!
I know he's not exactly an Avenger or even a Great Lakes Avenger, but when you're framed for murder this far out in the galaxy you have to get creative.
See... Me? I don't really care about people--I spend most of my time shooting them. But Groot... Groot likes people. Always sees the best in them. Gives 'em a shot. And even if it hurts, he always goes out of his way to help. Groot makes friends everywhere he goes... He puts himself out there... Even when he shouldn't.
And all the while, in the middle of all the that crazy, despite the certain death stuff, I was still looking for an angle. The out. The fluke. The miracle play. That one opportunity. That one break. The genius way we could combine our skills or exploit their weaknesses, and bust out of that death trap alive. Like I told you, I'm a tactical genius. Always looking, always looking, no matter how hopeless things seem... and there was none. We were dead. Certain death. Curtains. Good-night. Then the sun came out.
Sure I took out one of the galaxy's worst dictators alone. Convinced all these dummies that I was worse than their dummy boss. I may have even sentenced a few people to some pretty dark $%#@, but that's all a by-product of the universe's best troll ever.
Whoa, whoa, whoa! Brakes on, team! No one's addressing the really important thing the big dude just said... the part about removing my brain! I am absolutely not down with that! It's my second favorite organ!
No, you don't understand. Right now, Groot"The God" is out there figuring out how to get me out of here. Maybe if you stop being... you, then I'll consider leaving the door open on my way out.
Hey! I'm a brain in a jar now, sharing a body of a lunatic demigod with a bunch of other evicted noggins! I do what I'm told, Stella, and I did not choose this, so get off my back!
No. Hard no. Why would we go to some stupid funeral? It's always the same stupid speech. "He was a kind, caring soul, blah blah blah, such a tragic loss, blah blah, he will live on in our smiles and songs."
Because, Symbiote-Boy, "out here" is better than Earth. You know how I know? Because half of you goobers lived on Earth and now you're out here wit' me. And I ain't no picnic. So Earth must suck.
Yeah, there's always a cost. Like, you ever hear somebody say, "I came back to life, and nothing bad happened because of it"? Nobody has ever said those words.
Lemme get this straight! We cooked up two of the craziest heists that anybody ever pulled off, just so the Grandmaster could test the Collector to make sure nobody had put a whammy on him? I better get my money. And you guys better hope the Gardener wasn't the one that hurt Groot -- or you're not gonna have to be doing any guessin' about whose wastin' Cosmic Elderlies and whatnot. 'cause I'll mulch his old moldy ass.
Sure. We had a long chat, tea and biscuits, did a little scrapbooking and planned a summer trip to the Jonkos. This was all while being plastered to the windshield of her ship deep in the middle of space. You know, a typical Tuesday.
No. That's not how this works. We made a deal, we made a commitment to each other. We made a commitment to Knowhere. As a group, we decided these people need our help and we are going to help them! And somebody is not living up to their part of the bargain. And you are going to incur the wrath of Doom and then there will be no "us." Your head will be floating in space right next to the one we're living in.
I may just be a small, furry animal with a human heart. And my friend may be made of wood...and we may not be Annihilator-class supertypes... But we've got Star-Lord's legacy to live up to, Lylla. The legacy of the Guardians of the Galaxy!
I'll tell you all something I've learned over the years with my friends. You can save the galaxy and take down scores. You can save millions of people by killing a few bad ones. You can do it all -- you just gotta tell yourself, and believe it when you say it -- "I'm the baddest mother @#$&#$% in the whole universe." 
Come on, Groot, let's blow this late '90s joint before he starts blasting Prodigy up in here. 
