Veronica Loughran: All right, who's leading this mob?
Woolen Cap Smoker: That guy.
Veronica Loughran: Hold it! Let's see some credentials. SLOWLY. You're a Chewley's Gum Representative? And you're what? Stirring up all this anti-smoking sentiment to sell more gum? GET OUT OF HERE! And you people, don't you have jobs to go to? Get out of here, go commute! Bunch of easily-led automatons. Try thinking for yourselves before you pelt an innocent man with cigarettes!
Woolen Cap Smoker: Uhhhh... pack of cigarettes?

Randal Graves: Hey, you and I have something in common - we both eat Chinese.
Caitlin Bree: Dick.
Randal Graves: Exactly.

Caitlin Bree: You two better quit it.
Dante Hicks: I'm serious.
Caitlin Bree: So, we didn't jus have sex in the bathroom?
Dante Hicks: No.
Caitlin Bree: Stop it. This isn't funny.
Dante Hicks: I'm not kidding. I just came in from outside.
Caitlin Bree: This isn't fucking funny Dante!
Dante Hicks: I'm not fooling around!

Yeah, I mean aside from the cheating, we were a great couple. I mean that's what high school was about, algebra, bad lunch, and infidelity.

Dante Hicks

Listen, not a year goes by, not a year, that I don't hear about some escalator accident involving some bastard kid which could have easily been avoided had some parent - I don't care which one - but some parent conditioned him to fear and respect that escalator.

Brodie

Shannon Hamilton: That's it. You're dead, mallrat. I'm gonna fuck you up beyond repair.
Brodie: Ladies and gentlemen, this tall drink of water headed my way is a pillar of the shopping community who informed me earlier today of a nefarious plan of his to screw my girlfriend in an extremely uncomfortable place.
Gil Hicks: What... like the back of a Volkswagen?

People say crazy shit during sex. One time I called this girl "Mom."

Randal Graves

Tabloid Reading Customer: I'm going to break your fucking head! You fucking jerk-off!
Dante Hicks: Sir! Sir, I'm sorry! He didn't mean it! He meant to hit me.
Tabloid Reading Customer: Well, he missed!
Dante Hicks: I know. I'm sorry. Here, let me refund your money, and we'll call it even.
Tabloid Reading Customer: I'll never come in here again.

Brodie: You have my Punisher War Journal #6, my copy of "Fletch" and the remote control to my TV. Now, I know it's going to be hard to give this stuff up because of it's sentimental attachment...
Rene: Sentimental attachment? Look, if I have any of that crap it's because you brought it over my house and left it there.
Brodie: Okay, then let's talk about coming up with a schedule for visitation rights.
Rene: For what?
Brodie: For the mall. I figure you can take the odd days, I'll take the even days and weekends. When there's any special feature like a sidewalk sale...
Rene: [interrupting] Brodie, Brodie...
Brodie: ...or a boat show...
Rene: [interrupting] Brodie! I've always taken you with a grain of salt. On your birthday, when you told me to do a striptease to the theme of "Mighty Mouse", I said okay. On prom night at the hotel when you told me to sleep under the bed in case your mother burst in, I did it. And even during my grandmother's funeral when you told my relatives that you could see her nipples through her burial dress, I let that slide.
Rene: [Grabs Brodie by the ear] But if you think I'm gonna suffer any of your shit with a smile now that we're broken up, you're in for some serious fucking disappointment.

Brodie: After all he's done to you, you should still kinda stick it to him.
T.S. Quint: How do you propose I do that?
Brodie: You stinkpalm him.
T.S. Quint: Stinkpalm?
Brodie: You take your hand and stick it in your ass like this. You been walkin' all day and you're nervous, so no doubt you'll be sweaty as hell.
T.S. Quint: You should see yourself right now, a grown man with his hand down his pants.
Brodie: Yeah i probably look like my old man. So you shake hands with the guy, "Hello Mr. Svenning how have you been?"
T.S. Quint: Whats the point?
Brodie: You know how long it takes for that smell to come off? Scrub all you want, it'll stick around for at least two days. How does he explain it to his colleagues and family? They'll think he doesn't know how to wipe his ass properly.
T.S. Quint: Meanwhile you yourself are left with a hand that smells like shit.
Brodie: Small price to pay for the smiting of one's enemies.

Rene: What are you doing? You promised me breakfast.
Brodie: Breakfast, shmreakfast. Look at the score, for Christ's sake. It's only the second period and I'm up 12 to 2. Breakfasts come and go, Rene, but Hartford, "the Whale," they only beat Vancouver once, maybe twice in a lifetime.

Yeah, Silent Bob, your a rude motherfucker, you know that? But you're cute has hell. I could go down on you, suck you, line up three other guys and make like a circus seal.

Jay

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