Carl Showalter: Okay, here're the keys to my truck. I'm taking the car right now and gettin' out of here.
Gaer Grimsrud: We split that.
Carl Showalter: How the fuck do you split a car, you dummy? With a fucking chainsaw?

And I guess that was your accomplice in the woodchipper.

Marge Gunderson

There's more to life than a little money, ya know. Don'tcha know that? And here ya are. And it's a beautiful day. Well. I just don't understand it.

Marge Gunderson

You stay away from me, man! Hey, smoke a fuckin' peace pipe!

Carl Showalter

Gaear Grimsrud: Shut the fuck up! Or I'll throw you back in the trunk, you know?
Carl Showalter: Jesus, that's more than I've heard you say all week.

Carl Showalter: Alright Jerry, I'm through fucking around. You got the fucking money?
Jerry Lundegaard: Yeah, I got the money, but... uh...
Carl Showalter: Don't you fucking fuck me, Jerry. I want you to get this money to the Dayton Radisson, top level, in 30 minutes, Jerry, we wrap this thing up.
Jerry Lundegaard: Yeah, but...
Carl Showalter: Hey, you're there in 30 minutes Jerry or I find you Jerry and I shoot you and I shoot your fucking wife and I shoot all your fucking children and I shoot them all in the back of their little fucking heads, you got it?
Jerry Lundegaard: Okay, now you stay away from Scotty now.
Carl Showalter: Got it?

[beating Carl] Fucking little weasel! Fuck you! You fucking motherfucker son of a bitch! Fucking cock! Jesus Christ! You fucking shitbag motherfucker!

Shep Proudfoot

Norm Gunderson: They announced it.
Marge Gunderson: They announced it?
Norm Gunderson: Yeah.
Marge Gunderson: So?
Norm Gunderson: Three-cent stamp.
Marge Gunderson: Your mallard?
Norm Gunderson: Yeah.
Marge Gunderson: Oh, that's terrific.
Norm Gunderson: It's just a three-cent stamp.
Marge Gunderson: It's terrific.
Norm Gunderson: Hautman's blue-winged teal got the 29-cent. People don't much use the three-cent.
Marge Gunderson: Oh, for Pete's sake. Of course they do. Whenever they raise the postage, people need the little stamps.

Gaer Grimsrud: Where is Pancake's House?
Carl Showalter: What?
Gaer Grimsrud: We stop at Pancake's House.

Airport Lot Attendant: There's a minimum charge of 4 dollars, long term parking charges by the day.
Carl Showalter: I guess you think you're... you know like an authority figure, with that stupid fucking uniform, huh buddy? King clip-on-tie there, big fucking man huh? You know these are the limits of your life man. The rule of your little fucking gate here. Here's your 4 dollars you pathetic piece of shit!

[praying] Dear Lord Jesus, I do not often speak with you and ask for things, but now, I really must insist that you help me win the election tomorrow because I deserve it and Paul Metzler doesn't, as you well know. I realize that it was your divine hand that disqualified Tammy Metzler and now I'm asking that you go that one last mile and make sure to put me in office where I belong so that I may carry out your will on earth as it is in heaven. Amen.

Tracy Flick

[praying] Dear God, I know I don't believe in you, but since I'll be starting catholic school soon, I though I should at least practice. Let's see. What do I want? I want Lisa to realize what a bitch she is and feel really bad and apologize for how she hurt me and know how much I still love her. In spite of everything, I still want Paul to win the election tomorrow, not that cunt Tracy. Oh, and I also want a really expensive pair of leather pants and someday, I wanna be really good friends with Madonna. Love, Tammy.

Tammy Metzler

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