Danny Butterman: What's it like being stabbed?
Nicholas Angel: It was the single most painful experience of my life
Danny Butterman: [nodding] What's the second most painful?

I think you will find me a slasher... of prices!

Simon Skinner

Virginia: I thought we were just going to be friends.
Happy Gilmore: What? Friends don't listen to Endless Love in the dark.

Danny Butterman: Where's the trolley boy?
Nicholas Angel: In the freezer.
Danny Butterman: Did you say anything like 'cool it'?
Nicholas Angel: Umm, no, not really.
Danny Butterman: Awww, shame.
Nicholas Angel: Well, you would have been proud of me before, when he attacked me in the hotel and I distracted him with the cuddly toy and I said, "Playtime's over" and hit him over the head with the plant pot.
Danny Butterman: Man, you're off the fuckin' chain!

Sergeant: Hello Nicholas.
Nicholas Angel: Hello Sergeant.
Sergeant: How's the hand?
Nicholas Angel: Still a bit stiff.
Sergeant: It can get awfully hairy out there. I'm surprised you weren't snapped up sooner for a nice desk job. That's what I'd do.
Nicholas Angel: I'm afraid I think my office is out on the street.
Sergeant: Indeed you do! Your arrest record is four hundred percent higher than any other officer, which is why it's high time that such... skills... were put to better use. We're making you sergeant.
Nicholas Angel: I see.
Sergeant: [mumbles]
Nicholas Angel: In where, sorry?
Sergeant: In Sandford, Gloucestershire.
Nicholas Angel: But that's in the country...
Sergeant: Yes! Lovely!
Nicholas Angel: Isn't there a sergeant's position here in London?
Sergeant: Oh, no.
Nicholas Angel: Can I remain here as a PC?
Sergeant: No.
Nicholas Angel: Do I have any choice in this?
Sergeant: No!
Nicholas Angel: Sergeant, I kinda like it here.
Sergeant: Well, you've always wanted a transfer to the country.
Nicholas Angel: In twenty years or so, yes.
Sergeant: Well done you.

Eddie Harris: You know you might think about taking Jesus Christ as your savior instead of fooling around with all this stuff.
Roger Dorn: Shit, Harris.
Pedro Cerrano: Jesus, I like him very much, but he no help with curveball.
Eddie Harris: You trying to say Jesus Christ can't hit a curveball?

Bats, they are sick. I cannot hit curveball. Straightball I hit it very much. Curveball, bats are afraid. I ask Jobu to come, take fear from bats. I offer him cigar, rum. He will come.

Pedro Cerrano

Nicholas Angel: With respect, sir, you can't just make people disappear.
Chief Inspector: Yes I can, I'm the Chief Inspector.
Nicholas Angel: Well however you spin this, there's one thing you haven't taken into account. And that's what the team are gonna make of this.
[gets up and opens the door, where the team standing below a sign reading 'Good Luck Nicholas']

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.

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?

You're gonna need a blanket and suntan lotion, cause you're never gonna get off that beach, just like the way you never got into the NHL... you jackass!

Donald

I'm hung over, my knees are killin' me and if you're going to pull this shit at least you could've said you were from the Yankees.

Jake Taylor

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