Lloyd: Mock
Harry: Yeah!
Lloyd: Ing
Harry: Yeah!
Lloyd: Bird
Harry: Yeah!
Lloyd: Yeah!
Harry: Yeah!

Harry: What's her last name? I'll look it up.
Lloyd: You know, I don't really recall. Starts with an S! Let's see. Swim? Swammi? Slippy? Slappy? Swenson? Swanson?
Harry: Maybe it's on the briefcase.
Lloyd: Oh, yeah! It's right here.
[He reads the manufacturer's name, which is Samsonite]
Lloyd: Samsonite! I was way off! I knew it started with an S, though.

Harry: I can't believe it.
Lloyd: Life is a fragile thing, Har. One minute you're chewin' on a burger, the next minute you're dead meat.
Harry: But he blamed me. You heard him. Those were his last words.
Lloyd: Not if you count the gurgling sound.

Mary: So you'll pick me up tonight at seven forty-five?
Harry: Well I got a few things to take care of. So how about we make it quarter to eight?
Mary: [Laughs] Stop it
Harry: Okay. Seven forty-five

Lloyd: I'm only human, Harry! Come on! Stop being a baby. So we backtracked a tad!
Harry: A tad? A tad, Lloyd? You drove almost a sixth of the way across the country in the wrong direction! Now we don't have enough money to get to Aspen, we don't have enough money to get home, we don't have enough money to eat, we don't have enough money to sleep!
Lloyd: Well, it's not gonna do us any good sitting here whining about it. We're in a hole. We're just going to have to dig ourselves out.

According to the map we've only gone 4 inches.

Harry

Lloyd: Why you going to the airport, flying somewhere?
Mary: How'd you guess?
Lloyd: I saw your luggage, then when I noticed the airline ticket I put 2 and 2 together.

Hey, guys. Big gulps, huh? Cool. All right! Well, see ya later.

Lloyd

Harry: Nice set of hooters you got there!
Mary: I beg your pardon?
Harry: The owls! They're beautiful!

Lloyd: I'll bet you twenty dollars I can get you gambling before the day is out!
Harry: No!
Lloyd: I'll give you three to one odds.
Harry: No.
Lloyd: Five to one.
Harry: No.
Lloyd: Ten to one?
Harry: You're on!
Lloyd: I'm gonna get ya!
Harry: Nu uh!
Lloyd: I don't know how but I'm gonna get ya.

Lloyd: What the hell are we doing here, Harry? We gotta get out of this town!
Harry: Oh yeah, and go where? Where are we gonna go?
Lloyd: I'll tell you where. Someplace warm. A place where the beer flows like wine. Where beautiful women instinctively flock like the salmon of Capistrano. I'm talking about a little place called Aspen.
Harry: Oh, I don't know, Lloyd. The French are assholes.

Lloyd: What are the chances of a guy like you and a girl like me... ending up together?
Mary: Well, that's pretty difficult to say.
Lloyd: Hit me with it! I've come a long way to see you, Mary. The least you can do is level with me. What are my chances?
Mary: Not good.
Lloyd: You mean, not good like one out of a hundred?
Mary: I'd say more like one out of a million.
[pause]
Lloyd: So you're telling me there's a chance.

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