[after he faked a terminal illness, took residence in the house under false pretenses, tried to instigate a fight with his estranged wife's fiancé, lied to his family and was found out] I know I'm going to be the bad guy here...

Chas: Are you okay?
Royal: Fuck do you care?

Hell of a damn grave. Wish it were mine.

Chas: I've had a rough year, dad.
Royal: I know you have, Chassie.

I didn't think so much of him at first. But now I get it, he's everything that I'm not.

You wanna talk some jive? I'll talk some jive. I'll talk some jive like you've never heard!

Royal: Are you trying to steal my woman?
Henry Sherman: I beg your pardon.
Royal: You heard me, Coltrane.
Henry Sherman: Coltrane?
Royal: What?
Henry Sherman: Did you just call me Coltrane?
Royal: No.
Henry Sherman: You didn't?
Royal: No.
Henry Sherman: Okay...

Royal: Can I say something to you, Henry?
Henry Sherman: Okay.
Royal: I've always been considered an asshole for about as long as I can remember. Uhh, that's just my style. But I'd really feel blue if I didn't think you were going to forgive me.
Henry Sherman: I don't think you're an asshole, Royal, I just think you're kind of a son of a bitch.
Royal: Well, I really appreciate that.

Richie: Is it because of us?
Royal: Well, of course, certain sacrifices had to be made as a result of having children. But heavens, no.

Royal: The past six days have been the best six days of probably my whole life.
Narrator: Immediately after making this statement, Royal realized that it was true.

Richie: Did you say you were on Mescaline?
Eli: I did indeed. Very much so.

Anybody interested in grabbing a couple of burgers and hittin' the cemetery?

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