| Con Air |
| (They can't reach Vince Larkin) DUNCAN MALLOY: Well of course you can't reach him. He's off saving the rainforest, or recycling his sandals or some shit. (Holding a gun to the stuffed bunny) CYRUS: Don't move or the bunny gets it. CAMERON POE: Put...the...bunny....back...in the ....box. CYRUS: I despise rapists. For me, they're somewhere between a cockroach and that white stuff that accumulates at the corners of your mouth when you're really thirsty. But, in your case, I'll make an exception. LOCAL COP: I got a problem with a corpse. LARKIN: Yeah? LOCAL COP: Yeah, fell from the sky. I don't think he's an astronaut. (To Cyrus while holding a gun) PINBALL: You didn't mean that "dirty nigger crackhead" shit, did you? CYRUS: Give me that gun. (Takes gun) CYRUS: Hell yes, I meant it. GARLAND GREENE: He's a fountain of misplaced rage. Name your cliche; Mother held him too much or not enough, last picked at kickball, late night sneaky uncle, whatever. Now he's so angry that moments of levity actually cause him pain; gives him headaches. Happiness, for that gentleman, hurts. PINBALL: I hate to say this Cryus, but we are three white dudes short. Or as they say in Ebonics, "we be fucked." DUNCAN MALLOY: This is a situation that needs to get un-fucked right now! CAMERON POE: That gun work? LARKIN: Yeah. CAMERON POE: Then shoot that piece of shit! JOHNNY 23: Do you know what I am? CAMERON POE: Ugly all day? GUARD FALZON: If any of you so much as pass gas in my direction and upset my delicate nasal passages, your testicles will become my private property. GUARD FALZON: It smells like someone shit in your mouth. PINBALL: He told me he loved me. GARLAND GREENE: (singing as the plane crashes) He's got the who-ole wo-orld in his hands.... |