Have you come to arrange a holiday, or would you like a blowjob?
But you waltzing in here on my lovely Christmas holiday, and telling me that you don’t want to lose me whilst you’re about to get MARRIED, somehow newly entitles me to say, it’s over. This - This twisted, toxic THING between us, is finally finished!
What? Over? Did you say “over”? Nothing is over until we decide it is! Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell no!
What’s our vector, Victor?
Sit down, Victor. Sit down, damn you!
-Damn your eyes!
-[points] Too late.
Do you seriously think I would explain my master stroke to you if there were even the slightest possibility you could affect the outcome? I triggered it 35 minutes ago.
Cinderella story… Outta nowhere. A former greenskeeper, now, about to become the Masters champion. It looks like a mirac… It’s in the hole! It’s in the hole! It’s in the hole!
Read it, roll it, hole it.
You stupid fucking cunt. You, Williamson, I’m talking to you, shithead. You just cost me $6,000. Six thousand dollars, and one Cadillac. That’s right. What are you going to do about it? What are you going to do about it, asshole? You’re fucking shit. Where did you learn your trade, you stupid fucking cunt, you idiot? Who ever told you that you could work with men? Oh, I’m gonna have your job, shithead.
[quoted at length cuz it’s great and he nails the word…]
Asshole? I’m not the one who just got butt-fucked on national TV, Dwayne. Now, you listen to me, jerk-off, if you’re not a part of the solution, you’re a part of the problem. Quit being a part of the fucking problem and put the other guy back on!
He’s stopped again! The crazy, dumb ass, son of a bitch stopped again!
He’s half-way between stations! What the hell’s going on down there?
Pure mental case! I’m gonna nail his pecker to the goddamn wall for this!
Act as if you got a 9" cock. Okay? Act as if.
Excuse me, ma’am. Now what we have here, little yellow sister, is a magnificent specimen of pure Alabama blacksnake. But it ain’t too goddamn boo-coo.
Oh, stewardess! I speak jive.
The stars will wheel forth from their daytime hiding places; and one of those lights, slightly brighter than the rest, will be my wingtip passing over.
“Pyrex Pickle Blowfish, permission to land. You guys are gonna have to talk me down. I’ve got damage.”
“Hold it, hold it! OK, Topper. Ease her in.”
“Landing gear’s frozen.”
“Lookin’ good.”
“Lost my radar.”
“A little more power now.”
“I’m out of fuel.”
“Right for lineup.”
“Lost a wing.”
“Doin’ fine.”
“There goes the other one.”
“OK, Topper. Call the ball.”
nm
[was Stryker’s last minute instructions. Bad play on my part]
This is the captain. Brace for impact.
Captain, the engines canna take much more of this.