I’ve heard that you’re a low-down Yankee liar.
Why don’t you save your rapier-like wit for clam diggers back home, Hawkeye.
Don’t get sarcastic with me, son. We burned this tight-arsed city to the ground in 1814. And I’m all for doing it again, starting with you, you frat fuck. You get sarcastic with me again and I will stuff so much cotton wool down your fucking throat it’ll come out your arse like the tail on a Playboy bunny. I was led to believe I was attending the war committee.
I’m an expert at parties and boys! I’m a bunny! Men write to me from prison, sometimes even in their own blood, which I think is theirs, but I don’t know, I’m really nervous because I really want to help.
I used to fuck guys like you in prison.
Your brother was a pussy without a Browning in hand. And he was a fucking punk in the joint.He’d bend over for a pack of cigarettes.
Keep your ass clean. I know a fight can get you a little funky but soap and water’ll take care of that so keep your ass clean. [Penitentiary]
Dad, wake up. Martin’s putting cornstarch on his balls.
Oh, my balls. Oh, my balls!
Say no more.
Yeah, don’t even ask about my balls.
But what I heard was, “Chopper! Sic balls!”
There aren’t more choppers coming?
We’re gonna need some more FBI guys, I guess.
We at the FBI do not have a sense of humor we’re aware of. May we come in?
Well, shit the bed! Howdy folks, come on in! Well, I can see by those fancy britches and sassy hairdos that you all ain’t from around here. So, where ya from?
I was born a poor black child. I remember the days, sittin’ on the porch with my family, singin’ and dancin’ down in Mississippi.
Rest of America don’t mean jack shit. You in Mississippi now.
And you: friendless, brainless, helpless, hopeless! Do you want me to send you back to where you were? Unemployed, in Greenland??
I wanna go home.