This is gold, Mr. Bond. All my life I’ve been in love with its color… its brilliance, its divine heaviness.
Not all treasure is silver and gold, mate.
This room is real, Ben. And that means the treasure is real.
It’s as dark a tale as was ever told
Of the lust for treasure and the love of gold
Wait a minute. This isn’t gold. This is a wishing well. Look.
Something is wrong here. Can’t you see that? Strange boxes arrive in the barn. Babs stops laying, but they don’t take her to the chop, and now they’re giving us extra food. Don’t you see what’s happening? They’re fattening us up. They’re going to kill us all.
Fish aren’t meant to be in a box, kid. It does things to you.
In our family, there was no clear line between religion and fly fishing.
Good. Our first catch of the day.
After that, shrimping was easy. Since people still needed shrimp for shrimp cocktails, and barbecues and all, and we were the only boat left standing, Bubba Gump Shrimp’s what they got.
Coughlin’s diet: cocktails and dreams.
- …[A]nd when there was no meat we ate fowl. And when there was no fowl we ate crow. And when there was no crow dead to be found we ate sand–
- You ate sand?
- That’s right.
- I wouldn’t care how hungry I got. I know I wouldn’t eat one of those camp dogs.
- You’d eat it. You’d fight for the bones, too.
Oh, you wouldn’t eat me!
Yes, I’d eat you, in a nice little, tight little missionary stew.
Now, I don’t mean to brag, but I make a mean weedrat stew.
But that damn sure is Minnie’s stew. So if Minnie is on the northside just visiting her mama for a week, how’d she make the stew this morning?
How d’you like your gowranah? Medium? Well-done?
- How would you like your steaks cooked?
- Oh, just knock its horns off, wipe its nasty ass, and chunk it right here on this plate.
I aint’ tradin’ turnips with nobody.
I go out, I work my butt off to make a living. All I want is to come home to a nice, clean house, with a nice fat steak on the table, but instead I get this. It looks like poison. Don’t you take that away. I’m eating that! Damn it! It is poison, isn’t it? I swear to god, I would not be surprised if it was, the way you skulk around here like a dog been hit too much or ain’t been hit enough. I can’t make up my mind! You’re useless, Beatrice. The only thing that pulls its weight around here is my goddamn truck.
BOOM!
Figures.