Bishop: Why don't you come on down to our new Lutheran center?
Danny Noonan: I've often thought about becoming a priest.
Bishop: Oh, are you a Roman Catholic?
[Danny nods]
Bishop: Oh, then I'm sorry, but I'm afraid you can't come.

Bless this ship, and all who sail on her. I christen thee The Flying WASP.

Mrs. Smails

Groundskeeper Sandy: Carl. Damn your eyes. I told you, today is the day we change the holes. Now, do it, and no more slacking off.
Carl Spackler: I'll slack you off, you fuzzy little foreigner.

You're not, you're not good, Al. You stink.

Ty Webb

Bark like a dog.

Carl Spackler

Spalding Smails: I want a hamburger... no, a cheeseburger. I want a hot dog. I want a milkshake...
Judge Smails: You'll get nothing, and like it.

Elihu, will you come loofah my stretch marks?

Mrs. Smails

Judge Smails: Do you know what I just saw? A gopher. Do you know what gophers can do to a golf course?
Groundskeeper Sandy: Aye, Sir. I think they're tunneling in from that construction site.
Judge Smails: Czervik, huh. Well, I slap an injunction on them so fast it'll make their head spin.

Judge Smails: [to Bishop Fred Pickering] Say, Fred, did you hear the one about the Jew, the Catholic, and the Colored Boy who went to heaven?
Bishop: Yeah, Judge, that's a doozy.

Don't you people have jobs?

Judge Smails

Judge Smails: I demand satisfaction.
Al Czervik: Yeah, well I'll tell you what's satisfying: *cash*. I'll shoot you 18 holes for ten thousand bucks.
Judge Smails: I could beat you with one good arm.
Al Czervik: Well, how about teams, then. I'll take Ty here, and you can have Dr. Frankenputz.
Dr. Beeper: I beg your pardon.
Ty Webb: Judge, Al, I don't play golf... for money... against people.

Ty Webb: Let me just clean this up here...
[lifts up bow and arrow]
Ty Webb: Getting ready for the season.
Lacey Underall: Duck?
Ty Webb: No... dolphin.

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