I’ve decided what to do with my life. I wanna be a cleaner.
I’m Victor. I’m the cleaner.
What’s your vector, Victor?
That’s me, because I commit crimes with both direction and magnituide. Oh yeah!
Why in pluperfect hell would you pee on a corpse?
I don’t feel that I need to explain my art to you, Warren.
That name sounds like royalty. Are you royalty?
For what is an artist in this world but a servant, a lackey for the rich and powerful? Before we even begin to work, to feed this craving of ours, we must find a patron, a rich man of affairs, or a merchant, or a prince or… a Pope. We must bow, fawn, kiss hands to be able to do the things we must do or die. We are harlots always peddling beauty at the doorsteps of the mighty.
You get a job. You become the job.
And I said, I don’t care if they lay me off either, because I told, I told Bill that if they move my desk one more time, then, then I’m, I’m quitting, I’m going to quit. And, and I told Don too, because they’ve moved my desk four times already this year, and I used to be over by the window, and I could see the squirrels, and they were married, but then, they switched from the Swingline to the Boston stapler, but I kept my Swingline stapler because it didn’t bind up as much, and I kept the staples for the Swingline stapler and it’s not okay because if they take my stapler then I’ll set the building on fire…
Now, you know there’s no sure way for us to fight a fire in anything over the seventh floor, but you guys just keep building 'em as high as you can.
How are we supposed to know if the floor is on fire in one of these?
Yeah, you’ll just trot right up to 79, huh?
Your girlfriend lives in the corner penthouse… of Spook Central.
She shot an arrow at your head.
I don’t fucking believe this! Can everyone stop gettin’ shot?
I call that bold talk for a one-eyed fat man!
I yam what I yam!
What we need is a few good taters.
Po-tay-toes! Boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a stew. Lovely big golden chips with a nice piece of fried fish. Even you couldn’t say no to that.