Jay: So all we's gotta do is stop this fuckin' movie from getting made!
Holden: Yeah, and forego the hundreds of thousands of dollars you would be entitled to in the process. What are you, fucking retarded? I mean, I don't think I'm alone in the world in imagining this flick may be the worst idea since Greedo shooting first. You know it, but... a Jay and Silent Bob movie? Feature length? Who'd pay to see that?

James Van Der Beek: [about Dawson's Creek] You actually watch that show?
Jay: Yeah, for Joey, man. She is too fine. Did you ever get to third base with her?
James Van Der Beek: Well, actually there was this one time..

I'm gonna finger-bang her tight little asshole / Finger-bang and tea-bag my balls / Where, where, in her mouth / Balls a-plenty in her mouth / Balls Balls Sweaty Balls!!!

Jay

Holy Fuck! The little stoner was right!

Chrissy

And I can't believe fine-ass bitches like yourselves eat that shit. Don't you know fast food makes girls fart?

Jay

Jay: If today is Tuesday and the movie starts filming on Friday, we have... eight days.
Holden: Uh, three by my count, but close.
Jay: Right. My bad. Three days to stop that fucking movie from getting made. Come on, Silent Bob. We're going to Hollywood!

Azrael: Get me a... Holy Bartender.
Bartender: Never heard of it.
Azrael: Ahh, he doesn't know how to make a Holy Bartender. You do, don't you, Muse?
Serendipity: Don't...
Azrael: Ahh, anybody? No?
[Jay and Silent Bob shake their heads]
Azrael: Well, I know how to make a Holy Bartender...
[Azrael pulls out a gun, shoots the bartender repeatedly, then laughs hysterically]
Azrael: Get it?

Wax on, wax off.

Metatron

Metatron: I am to charge you with a holy crusade.
Bethany: For the record, I work in an abortion clinic.
Metatron: Noah was a drunk. Look what he accomplished. And no one's even asking you to build an ark. All you have to do is go to New Jersey, and visit a small church on a very important day.
Bethany: New Jersey? That doesn't sound like much of a crusade.
Metatron: Aside from the fine print, that's it.
Bethany: What's the fine print?
Metatron: [mumbling] Stopacoupleofangelsfromenteringandthusnegatingallexistence.
Bethany: Wait, wait, wait. Repeat that.
Metatron: Stop a couple of angels from entering and thus negating all existence. I hate when people need it spelled out for them.

Gun Salesman: We call this piece the Fecalator. One look at it and the target shits him or herself. Try it on.
Loki: Well, it's a lot more compact than the flaming sword, but it's not nearly as impressive. Just doesn't have that Wrath-of-the-Almighty edge to it. I mean, come on, how am I supposed to strike fear into the hearts of the wicked with this thing? Look at this...
Bartleby: Well, then, you know, don't use a gun. Just lay the place to waste, like.
Loki: Easy for you to say. You get off light in razing. You got to stand there and read at Sodom and Gomorrah, I had to do all the work.
Bartleby: What work did you do? You lit a few fires.
Loki: I rained down sulphur, man, there's a subtle difference.
Bartleby: Oh, yeah, I'm sure.
Loki: Hey, you know, fuck you, man. Any moron with a pack of matches can set a fire. Raining down sulphur is like an endurance trial man. Mass genocide is the most exhausting activity one can engage in, outside of soccer.

Bethany: McHenry is pretty far from Jersey, might I ask what brings you guys to Illinois?
Jay: Some fuck named John Hughes.
Bethany: "16 Candles" John Hughes?
Jay: You know him too? That fucking guy.

Rufus: Are you saying you believe?
Bethany: No. But I have a good idea.

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