He’ll find him and make him squeal. I can tell the squealers every time.
You expect me to talk?
You can’t speak? Oh. Then you can’t be the girl that I thought.
Conversation with Zuzu Petals was like masturbating with a cheese grater: slightly amusing, but mostly painful.
Well, I suppose it’s possible other kids are masturbating and spreading their semen around the school as well. It’s possible, but, uh, somewhat unlikely.
“I masturbated.”
“That makes me think of your vagina.”
Jeez. Doesn’t anyone fucking knock any more?
Death? Death? You’re gonna kill me? You’re gonna fucking kill me? Why? WHY? Because I fucked you? You fucked me! You fucked ME! You came to MY house! You came to ME! I got you a car, I brought you your clothes, you took a fuckin’ BUBBLE BATH! You wanted it! You wanted it! You came on to me! What was I supposed to do? You sucked my cock, you both fucking sucked my cock! It was FREE PIZZA! Free fuckin’ pizza! It just shows up at my fuckin’ door! What am I supposed to do? “We’re flight attendants. Come on, fuck us! No one will know. Come on, fuck us!” Oh, twosomes, threesomes. It doesn’t matter! Starfish! Husbands! You don’t give a fuck, you’ll just fuck anything, you’ll just fuck anything! Well, you lied to me, I tried to help you! I let you in, I was a good guy, I’m a good father! And you just fucking fucked me! What? Now, you’re gonna kill me? You’re gonna kill me? Why? Why? 'Cause you fucked me? What the fuck-FUCK-FUCK, this is fucking insane!
Yeah, well, don’t worry about me. I’m gonna slingin’ pizza for the rest of my life
Question: do you like penicillin on your pizza?
What the hell do you think Leona really puts in that pizza?
Viennese cinnamon.
I cooked artichokes with hollandaise sauce which is melted butter that’s been whipped into a frenzy with egg yolks until it’s died and gone to heaven, and let me say this: is there anything better than butter? Think it over: every time you taste something that’s delicious beyond imagining and you say, “What is in this?”, the answer is always going to be, Butter. The day there’s a meteorite heading toward the earth and we have thirty days to live, I am going to spend it eating butter. Here’s my final words on the subject, you can never have too much, butter.
I don’t want to eat.
[singing] She’s like butter!
I said, I wanna see a Plaster of Paris bagel and cream cheese paperweight, now cough it up. Yes, right now! Get 'em, because as we sit here chatting, there are important papers flying rampant around my apartment because I don’t have ANYTHING to hold them down with.
Me, Benjamin Clawhauser, the guy everyone thinks is just a flabby, doughnut-loving cop, stereotyping you!
Have you ever wondered why, why the crime rate in Sandford is so low, yet the accident rate is so high?
I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something.
I’m Sorry, baby, I had to crash that Honda.