I’m getting better!
No you’re not; you’ll be stone dead in a moment!
Yeah, I’ve heard of you. I heard you were dead.
It just so happens that your friend here is only mostly dead.
You’re always gonna have problems lifting a body in one piece. Apparently, the best thing to do is cut up a corpse into six pieces and pile it all together.
And I guess that was your accomplice in the wood chipper.
Accomplice? I’m gonna tell them the whole thing was your idea.
- Danny: Ten oughta do it, don’t you think?
- Rusty: [Stares away in silence]
- Danny: You think we need one more?
- Rusty: [remains silent with his head leaning on top of his folded arms while hunched over on the bar]
- Danny: You think we need one more.
- Rusty: [remains silent]
- Danny: All right, we’ll get one more.
- Rusty: [Blinks]
Think you used enough dynamite there, Butch?
I looked at you tonight and you weren’t there… And I’m gonna howl it out, and I’m not gonna give a damn what I do and I’m gonna make the biggest god-damn explosion you’ve ever heard.
There was supposed to be an Earth-shattering kaboom.
Now witness the firepower of this fully armed and operational battle station.
Is something supposed to happen?
Why does that have to happen four weeks before I retire?
What does a retiree do these days, anyway? Take naps? Play golf? Hit on rich widows?
Don’t ever talk to my caddy again.
You know what he told me about you? He called you names. He called you a little piece of chicken.
I picked the easiest piece I could think of.
I tried to think of the most harmless thing. Something I loved from my childhood. Something that could never, ever possibly destroy us: the StaPuft Marshmallow Man.
What is your major malfunction, numb-nuts? Didn’t Mommy and Daddy show you enough attention when you were a child?
Lighten up, Francis.