He-woh, My name is Inigo Montoywa. You kiwwed my fathewr. Now Pwepare to die you scwewy wabbit!
Bill: Like, I’m Bill Montoya, Esquire!
Ted: And I’m Ted “Theodore” Logan!
Both: And we’re Wyld Stallyns!
<air guitar riff>
Bill: 'Kay, so like Six Fingered Dude? You killed my Dad, which was most heinous.
Ted: It was totally bogus! You’re runnin’ with the devil, dude!
Bill: “Runnin’ with the Devil”?
Ted: Van Halen!
<air guitar riff>
Bill: So, like, Six Fingered Dude? Since you weren’t excellent to my Dad, you should, like, prepare to die.
Ted: Yeah!
We New Englanders are not that wordy, and ayuh is not used to end every sentence
this is how it should go;
Name’s Wilbur Montoya, <silence>, seems you killed my father, you’ll just have to prepare yourself for the hereafter, ayuh.
the original quote sounded like a “fromawayer” trying to ape the Yankee dialect…
Locutus of Borg;
We are Locutus of Borg, you killed five of twenty, prepare to be assimilated, resistance is futile
Yo yo yo! You busted a cap in my old man’s ass, now I be bustin’ a cap in yours, dig?
How are you gentlemen? My name is CATS Montoya, all my fathers base belong to you. Make your time.
Hello! My name is Inigo Montoya, former assistant to the recently deposed Nigerian Minister of Finance, and I must speak to you on a matter of great urgency which will require a measure of discretion and your checking account and routing numbers…
Hi! I’m Inigo Montoya, I think you and my father had some business dealings a couple years back. Before we get into that, could I interest you in a FREE personality test and a copy of Dianetics, the number one best-selling book in the world?
We are Montoyas, from Lancaster County. We’re just outside Bird-in-Hand, with the big hex sign on the barn, just past the Beiller farm but not quite to the Haas place. Nothin’ fancy, very plain. Anyway, you killed our papa an’ now we shun you.
Well, I was born and raised just about as far away as you can get from New England in the Lower 48. 
**I am Inigo Nomad Montoya!
You are the six-fingered human.
…Must fulfill primary mission.
Sterilize!
Sterilize!
**
Hello, My name is Inigo get a bigger Pen*is now weieheqwm
SADsa djkdfjf dfijkdijk eiejkf
My name is Marvin Montoya. It seems you have killed my father. That makes me SO angry. Prepare for an Earth-shattering kaboom.
Bonjour. Je m’apelle Inigieux Montoie. Quoi? Vous ne comprendez pas? Sacre bleu! Not only must ah keel you for 'aving slain mon pere, but ah must speak your barbarian tongue to mehk you understand mah pain. Quelle damage!
Hi Doll. smacks gum I’m Flo, y’all the ones who didn’t leave no tip last time? You go on and take your business up the road, or I’m gettin’ Mel to come out of the kitchen. Mel!!!
I’d like to do a Joe Friday version, but unfortunately I’m not fluent in Dragnet. Maybe someone else.
Hello, My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.
Hello, My name is Darth Vader. I am your father, prepare to die.
Hello, my name is Oedipus Rex. I killed my father. I fucked my mother. I want to die(or, Here, have my eyes.)
0100100001100101011011000110110001101111
0110110101111001011011100110000101101101011001010110100101110011
010010010110111001101001011001110110111101001101011011110110111001110100011011110111100101100001
01011001011011110111010101101011 011010010110110001101100011001010110010001101101011110010110011001110100011010000110010101110010
010100000111001001100101011100000110000101110010011001010111010001101111011001000110100101100101
Statement : Unit designation is 1NG0 MN-TYA. Observation : you terminated my conceptor and Master, six-fingered meatbag. Warning : I am most displeased. Clarification : the termination was most amateurish and inefficient, and I was quite looking forward to splattering his innards using a berry spoon myself. Threat : prepare to die.
My name it is Hercule Montoya, hein. You cannot fool the little grey cells : it is YOU who has committed the murder of my father, n’est-ce pas ? My dear Hastings, please to kill the monsieur.
My name is Inigo Montoya and I am sick of these mother fucking father killers on this mother fucking plane!
Not a cultural stereotype but a fictional character, but I didn’t open that box.
Spoilerized due to NSFW language.
[spoiler]Now Reason, Reason stands at my ear and whispers, no, yells, screams… that no catharsis will follow, unless by catharsis you mean blood and froth all over my fucking floor, in which case if that is what catharsis is, catharsis will soon arrive, but more likely what’s about to happen is… it is analogous to a 92 year old farmer trying to fuck a one legged pox ridden whore.
- [Takes a swig of whiskey] *
Which is to say there’s not gonna be any climax. Nothing’s gonna penetrate nothing. But… maybe, just a chance that in mingling with warmer younger flesh, that 92 year old cock may at least albeit for only a second become something akin to hard, and joyful memories will stir, and while nothing will be penetrated at least it’s a helluva lot better than another night spent trying to fucking expel yesterdays cold pea soup through an ass that doesn’t remember the feeling of anything solid and said cock will have some last sentiment before it is sucked by maggots six feet beneath the sod and that not far off as OH WOULD- YOU- SHUT- THE FUCK UP!!! Listen! That’s all I ask! I am going to cut your throat, or I can take the pound of flesh first, I’ve no pressing engagements for the next few hours so how long you perform your death dance is directly related to whether you listen… Thank You!
Now then… pursuing this analogy, if there is to be even a chance that 92 year old cock flesh will firm for a moment when I cut your throat, then it is vital that you understand why I am cutting your fucking throat. Mayhap some would call it Justice. You are acquainted with Justice I’m sure!
Takes another swig]
Considering your employer maybe you’re not. Justice is the proper name of that cunt with the blindfold and the scales. You know why she wears the blindfold? Some, the transcendentalist sort, they’ll tell you the blindfold is there that she may show no preference, neither to rich nor poor nor Australian nor human, but that as is most transcendental notionry is so much prettily festooned festering horseshit… **OH SHUT UP! **
(hits the bound victim with his empty bottle, then proceeds to sharpen a razor on a strap)
Where was I… ah… Justice, the blind cunt goddess, she don’t wear that fucking blindfold so she can’t give preference, she wears it so she can’t see, and can’t later tell, just who’s been fucking her! Which at times I will admit has been me, and at times you, and at times neither of us I wager, both of us just cleaning up the fucking sheets when she’s done with the ride. Oh, but those fucking scales… as near as I subscribe to any notions of the realm mystical it is my belief in those fucking scales. The scales are balance. Justice is balance. You and me… we’re on those fucking scales, we balance. There’s you down there, tied up, powerless, a six… no, technically, an eleven fingered Pinkerton cocksucker, and here’s me, a nine fingered cock who wants for sucking. Merge us, mediate us with a cleaver, and the twain made shall be each a ten fingered happy fuck, that’s balance. That’s justice.
Well, let’s not sell fucking penny ballods. In fact what we’ll soon have is not a happy balanced twain but a fucking dead and bled eleven fingered cocksucking Pinkerton getting eaten by Celestial hogs and a nine fingered aging prick with another notch on his razor, but the twain coexist. Now then, it’s vital to my already slim chances of hardening as I approach the one legged metaphorical whore that you understand absolutely and specifically why you’re about to get your fucking throat cut. Why you ask with your fucking terrified cocksucking Pinkerton eyes? Revenge. Revenge of the filial, residuary, delayed variety that some though not I might even name holy in nature. My name is Alphonso Montoya y Swearengen, you killed my fucking father, and now I’m gonna cut your fucking throat…. now then…
(Cuts throat…. Takes a swig of whiskey, listens to the gurgling sounds, which soon stop.)
She might be a one legged crab ridden whore, but I must say I’ve had worse fucks.[/spoiler]