Brandi: Suitor Number Three, what would our first date be like?
Gil Hicks: Well, uh, first I'd take you shopping to stores you wanna shop in, and then we'd do a little lunch, probably at the Cheese Haus, followed by some golfing. And then at night, we'd take in an opera, probably Die Fledermaus, and then I'd follow it up with a drive to a secluded beach where I'd pop on the radio and we could slow-dance till the sun came up.
Brodie: That was the biggest load of crap I've ever heard. I mean, look at you. You're the kind of guy who would beg for sex. And I should know, we can smell our own.

T.S. Quint: How easily do you quit? Say you wind up with one of us?
Brodie: Hopefully not Rush Limbaugh over here.
Gil Hicks: Well, now, I'm not like Rush Limbaugh.
Brodie: Well, why not? Because he's fat? Now you have something against fat people, too?

Brodie: T.S. Quint, meet Tricia Jones. They call her Trish "the dish".
Tricia Jones: Nobody calls me that.

Brodie: Look, if I had any kind of glow it's because I just got laid. I would look the same had I banged anyone in that elevator... present company excluded.
T.S. Quint: Deny it all you want. I think that you're too proud to admit that you want her back.
Brodie: I suddenly want something very bad to happen to you.
[TS elbows Gwen in the chest, she hits him in the groin]
Brodie: See, that's what you get for fucking with me.

You know, I think you ought to get him some help. He seems to be really hung up on super heroes' sex organs.

Stan Lee

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.

Silent Bob here's an electrical genius. He won the science fair in eighth grade by turning his mom's vibrator into a CD player using some chicken wire and shit.The mother fucker's like MacGyver. No, the mother fucker's *better than* MacGyver.

Jay

Brodie: You're giving up? You? You used to be stand-up guy, what happened to him? The guy who punched Amanda's gross-out mother after she called him "low class".
T.S. Quint: That wasn't me. It was you.
Brodie: Oh, yeah.
T.S. Quint: And it wasn't her mother, it was her grandmother.
Brodie: No wonder the bitch went down so fast.

Dude, this one looks like your mom.
[Silent Bob nods]

Jay

First you take a run at La Fours with a sock full of quarters. I'd do it, but I pulled my back at humping your mom last night. Neetch. Okay, you clock him on his headpiece and knock his ass out cold. That's when phase two kicks in. I attack the structure Wolvie Berzerk style, and knock out the fuckin' pin and bickety bam, the motherfucker is rubble. Hence, no game show.

Jay

T.S. Quint: Jesus, how much did you smoke?
Jay: All it took was a phat, chronic blunt. These guys were lightweights.
T.S. Quint: How much do I owe you?
Jay: My treat. As long as you promise that the next time you pop your old lady, you make her call you "Jay." Snootchie Bootchies.
T.S. Quint: Let's hope there is a next time.

Brodie: There is something out there that can help us ease our simultanious double loss.
T.S. Quint: What? Ritual suicide?
Brodie: No, you idiot, the fucking mall!
T.S. Quint: I'd prefer ritual suicide.
Brodie: Oh come on man it'll be great. They have these new cookies at the cookie stand, you have to try 'em. They're awesome.

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