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

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?

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.

What you need is a fatty-boom-batty blunt, and I guarantee you'll be seeing a sailboat, an ocean, and maybe even some of those big-titted mermaids doing some of that lesbian shit. Look at me, look at me, you sloppy bitch!


Brodie: You've probably had a slew of women since her, am I right?
Stan Lee: Oh, lots of women. Jagger and me, we had a running contest to see who had the most. In fact, last time I checked I was way ahead.
Brodie: DAMN that's hot!

Shannon Hamilton: You wanna say something?
Brodie: Yeah. About a million things, but I can't express myself monosyllabically enough for you to understand it all.

Brandi: Second suitor, would you ever make whoopie in public?
Brodie: I already did once today.
[clicks his finger at Renee]
Brodie: But my cousin Walter jerked off in public once. True story. He was on a plane to New Mexico when all of the sudden the hydraulics went. The plane started spinning around, going out of control, so he decides it's all over and whips it out and starts beating it right there. So all the other passengers take a cue from him and they start whipping it out and beating like mad. So all the passengers are beating off, plummeting to their certain doom, when all of the sudden, *Snap* the hydraulics kick back in. The plane rights itself and it land safely and everyone puts their pieces or, whatever, you know, away and deboard. No one mentions the phenomenon to anyone else.
Gil Hicks: Well, did he cum, or what?
Brodie: Jesus Christ, man. There's just some things you don't talk about in public.

[Brodie's voice] One time my cousin Walter got this cat stuck up his ass. True story. He bought it at our local mall, so the whole fiasco wound up on the news. It was embarrasing for my relatives and all, but next week, he did it again. Different cat, same results, complete with another trip to the emergency room. So, I run into him a week later in the mall and he's buying another cat. And I says to him, "Jesus, Walt! What are you doing? You know you're just gonna get this cat stuck up your ass too. Why don't you knock it off?" And he said to me, "Brodie, how the hell else am I supposed to get the gerbil out?" My cousin was a weird guy.


Jay: Silent Bob stole the schematics from some foolish carpenter and found a weakness just like the fucking Death Star. You knock this crossbeam out and, fuckin' bickety-bam, the whole stage comes crashing down.
Brodie: Well we were thinking of something simple, but hey, if you want to destroy the stage, we're all for that.

Brandi: Second suitor: if we were making whoopee, what sounds would you make?
Brodie: Wait, what's whoopee?
Brandi: You know, being intimate.
Brodie: What? Like fucking?

T.S. Quint: But they're engaged.
Brodie: Doesn't matter, can't happen.
T.S. Quint: Why not? It's bound to come up.
Brodie: It's impossible, Lois could never have Superman's baby. Do you think her fallopian tubes could handle the sperm? I guarantee you he blows a load like a shotgun right through her back. What about her womb? Do you think it's strong enough to carry her child?
T.S. Quint: Sure, why not?
Brodie: He's an alien, for Christ sake. His Kyrptonian biological makeup is enhanced by earth's yellow sun. If Lois gets a tan the kid could kick right through her stomach. Only someone like Wonder Woman has a strong enough uterus to carry his kid. The only way he could bang regular chicks is with a kryptonite condom. That would kill him.
T.S. Quint: How is it that I go from the verge of hot Floridian sex with Brandi to man of steel coital debates with you in the food court?
Brodie: Cookie stand isn't part of the food court.
T.S. Quint: Of course it is.
Brodie: The food court is downstairs. The cookie stand is upstairs. It not like we're talking quantum physics here.
T.S. Quint: The cookie stands counts as an eatery, eateries are part of the food court.
Brodie: Bullshit. Eateries that operate within the designated square downstairs count as food court. Anything outside, of said designated sqaure, counts as an autonomous unit for mid-mall snacking. Now, if your going to wax intellectual about the subject...

Brodie: The usual vault rules apply: Touch not, lest ye be touched.
T.S. Quint: You're such an anal retentive bastard.
Brodie: Hey, I tried to teach you how to handle comics in the sixth grade, but oh no. You wanted to play little league.

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Mallrats Quotes

Little Girl: [looking at a Magic Eye poster] Wow. It's a schooner.
Willam Black: Ha ha ha ha. You dumb bastard. It's not a schooner... it's a Sailboat.
Little Boy: A schooner IS a sailboat stupid head.
Willam Black: [becoming enraged] You know what. There is NO Easter Bunny. Over there, that's just a guy in a suit.

Jay: You're fucking kidding me! The Easter bunny did this?
Brodie: All I said was that the Easter bunny at the Menlo Park mall was more convincing and he just jumped the railing and knocked me down.
Jay: He's fucking dead!
Brodie: Oh let it go, he's under a lot of pressure.
[T.S. and Gwen approach them]
T.S. Quint: What the hell happened?
Jay: The guy in the Easter bunny suit kicked his ass.
Brodie: I had it coming.
Jay: [to Silent Bob] Fuck all that shit. Come on, Silent Bob.
[Jay and Silent Bob leave]
T.S. Quint: What really happened?
Brodie: The proprietor of Fashionable Male beat a raincheck into my stomach.
Gwen: Shannon Hamilton?
T.S. Quint: You know that guy?
Gwen: I went out with him once after we dated. He tried to screw me some place very uncomfortable.
T.S. Quint: What? Like the back of a Volkswagen?
Brodie: Sounds like his M.O.